Open Lair
by noncynic
Summary: In today's Real Estate market, it's even hard to unload a used lair. Especially one with Kim Possible as a neighbor. So the turnout at Drakken's lair is quite surprising, and has a few surprises to spring.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

The first drawback to Drakken's mountain lair was, to put it bluntly, a lack of parking space. There was some space available within the lair, but no one was allowed to use it just yet. This included all of the prospective new renters of said lair.

For the lair in question was now back on the market, Drakken having had his lease terminated due to a lack of villainous activity over the past six months, since he became an accidental candidate, and then the actual Mayor of Middleton. His landlord, Jack Hench, expressed deep regret, but that was just the way it was, business was business.

So today, a Tuesday for the record, an Open Lair was being held for the benefit of those interested in moving in. And to be honest, Hench had not anticipated any traffic problems, based on the difficulty he had had getting anyone to rent it in the first place. After all, who wanted a lair overlooking Kim Possible's hometown?

But Drakken _had_ rented it, and now cars were lining up on the shoulder of the approach road, at least twenty so far, with more arriving. Practically every flat surface on the mountainside now had a helicopter or more exotic aircraft occupying it. In fact, something vaguely resembling a glittering child's top had moored itself to a sheer cliff, directly above the entrance!

Viewing this from the comfort of his office by remote video, Hench was currently straightening his tie in front of a mirror. "Bellows!" He shouted, and his personal assistant popped through the doors so quickly he might as well have been leaning on them in anticipation of the summons. "Get the fast bird ready." Hench ordered the man, "We have an unexpectedly high turnout at Drakken's lair, can't miss this opportunity to network!"

000000000

"Do you want me to monitor your pulse and blood pressure in case you need a sedative?" Shego directed a dark glare at the speaker, before adjusting her clothes for the ninth time in the last three minutes. "I'm not sure why you're even here, rubbing elbows with all sorts of villains!" She muttered back, "I mean, what would your Daddy say?"

Bernadette Barr smirked. "Ana, do you know what kind of people my Dad has done business with in the past? I remember meeting a couple of people at a party when I was fifteen, who are now serving _very_ long prison terms in a Federal Pen!"

"Minimum Security, I'll bet!" Was Shego's sarcastic reply as her eyes continued to sweep the main chamber of Drakken's lair. Or ex-lair, as of today. Only a few 'guests' had arrived as yet, but more were expected. Far more then Shego herself would have guessed. And there were some pretty heavy hitters already present. Of course, not all of them were here to look the place over to purchase, some were here to meet other 'like-minded' people, or just grab a free snack while rubbernecking. Shego sighed, even supervillains could be...childish? That thought made her snort in amusement.

"What?" Bernie asked curiously, but Shego only shook her head, eyes focused on the entrance where Hank Perkins was greeting the guests as they came in.

Currently a man dressed in pinstripes with an old style fedora on his head, A tall Asian in an old Manchu-style costume, and a short man in high-quality Arab dress were entering.

"A pleasure to have you here, Mister Socollatte!" Hank greeted the first cheerfully, then he bowed to the second, "And most welcome, Honorable Ding Bhat! Oh, and great disguise, Professor Dementor!" He added enthusiastically before turning to greet still more arrivals, ignoring the gnashing of teeth beneath the keffiyeh of the last named.

"You're probably right, I'm going to need to be tranquilized before the day is out!" Shego muttered to Bernie as the disguised German supervillain regained his composure and began to take a good look at his surroundings.

"Good, I got something from the Vets at the Zoo that should work!" Bernie's grin only widened as she received another dark look. "Shego, don't get all wound up now, you know something is going to happen sooner or later, you need to conserve your strength!"

That caused Shego to blink, then then nod thoughtfully. "You got a point there." She shook her head. "_Why_ did I agree to do this again?"

Rhetorical the question may have been, but Bernie chose to answer it anyway. "So Drew Lipsky could have a nice honeymoon with his new bride, that's why! In other words, for a good reason, Anastasia Black!"

Shego sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know, but I'm not good at this, and I hold grudges like you wouldn't believe! And I know I'm going to blame Doctor D for getting me into this, you just watch!"

Bernie put an arm around her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "Come on, it may not turn out that badly!" Then she caught sight of the latest arrivals, and her eyes widened. "I'll be damned, that does work!"

"Huh?" Shego followed her gaze and her own eyes narrowed. "You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me! And yeah, 'Don't tempt the Fates, they're always listening!'" Then she started across the floor towards Hank Perkins' station, Bernie trailing behind.

A group of three figures confronted Shego's co-host. They were all about four feet tall, clad in semi-rigid off-white suits with full helmets enclosing their heads. They might have been living beings, or robots, it was difficult to tell. Though they were now claiming the latter.

"We are artificial constructs operating under the remote control of several prospective buyers!" They were explaining to Hank, "Who for varying reasons are unable to take the time, or assume the risks involved in coming here in person!"

Shego and Bernie knew differently. These were three of the aliens who had given Team Go their powers, hoping to create a superhero group whose exploits would generate good will which they could then exploit for their own mercenary purposes. Though for the record, the five recipients of those powers were _not_ the intended targets.

The last thing the two women had heard, the aliens had made a few adjustments to Kim without her knowledge, then taken most of them back. And they were worried how their superiors were going to view their performance.

"And who might these buyers be?" Hank asked amiably, "So I can make you name tags?"

The lead alien twisted about as if to look at his comrades, fidgeting. "Err, I—oh, LOOK, guys, Shego's here!" He said this while trying to back away from the approaching woman and dodge behind the other two. Which failed, since they in turn were trying to make sure they were last in line when Shego got to them.

"What! Where!" The heads on two nearby visitors swiveled about frantically as one called out enthusiastically. They both looked to be college age, and one seemed to be wearing a notebook computer mounted on one forearm, which he began to sweep around in circles while staring at it's screen. "No, I got no sign of her energy signature!"

A scowling Shego almost ignored them, but suddenly her head snapped around as she came to a sudden halt. "Wait a minute, how the hell would you recognize _my_ energy signature?"

The two boys peered at her, and the one not mounting a computer, but possessing a nose stud, asked rudely. "Who the hell are you?" Behind Shego, Bernie winced and was grateful she had learned the location of all seventeen First Aid kits hidden in the lair.

Shego's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm _Shego_!" She snapped hotly.

"The hell you are!" The guy replied. Save for his friend and the angry ex-villainess he now faced, there was not a living soul with two cents for brains within thirty feet of him.

"Actually.." His friend interjected, "Her facial contours as well as general body measurements indicate that this is, in fact, Shego."

His friend looked shocked, looking back and forth between the seething Shego and his friend. "No way, Man! I mean, why the f- isn't she GREEN!" He pointed at Shego, his fingertip only inches from her nose while he glared at his buddy, "This bimbo is _not_ Shego!" At this point, his partner took three steps back.

"Hey Kid..." The boy's eyes snapped back to Shego, who was holding up a plasma sheathed hand, "What's the melting point of that stud?"

"So would that be why so much of the medical kit in this place is geared towards treating burns?" Bernie asked dryly, just before the boy's eyes rolled up into his head, and he fainted dead away. "Not to mention smelling salts?" She added as she knelt down to see if the boy had hurt his head on the concrete floor.

Shego meanwhile turned her attention back to the still-standing geek, while noting irritably that the aliens had disappeared. "Again, how can you recognize my energy signature?"

The boy bared his teeth in a nervous grimace. "Well, in point of fact, I can't recognize the signature you're putting out now, it varies significantly from the data I downloaded from the...err, website..um, dedicated to you?"

"What's going on here?" The boy jumped as Jack Hench's voice boomed behind him. Then the entrepreneur continued in a more moderate tone. "Shego! You're not supposed to be knocking out the prospective buy..." Then his voice trailed off as he took a closer look at the unconscious boy. "Just who is this kid?" He asked with a frown, before turning to Hank Perkins, who snapped into a brace. "Just who did these two say they were, Perkins?"

The boy with the computer was getting paler by the second, and there was every chance his deodorant was on the verge of giving up the ghost.

"Ah, well, you see Sir, they told me they were evil interns, as I myself once was, so..." Hanks nervous speech was cut short by Hench.

"Interns! Interns don't buy lairs, Perkins! And I won't have them causing any disruptions! Have them thrown out immediately!" Hench snapped, while surveying the crowd.

Hank looked around nervously for a moment before replying "Mister Hench, Sir, we don't have anyone to do the throwing out!" He leaned closer to the man and lowered his voice, "There's no one at all here except Shego and me! I mean, it's a good thing all of Doctor Drakken's stuff was moved out earlier, or we'd have to worry about theft! Not to mention the number of our guests who have asked where Shego's quarters are for some reason."

"Probably hoping to see if I left anything in my underwear drawer!" Shego whispered to Bernie, before paying full attention to a clearly unhappy Hench.

"You didn't keep any of the henchmen for security purposes?" He asked her crossly.

"Their contract ran out Friday." Shego replied, "And your rates for short-term extensions was basically highway robbery, so no way was Doctor D going to pay them!" Then she shrugged, eyes now sweeping the room for some sign of the vanished aliens. "Besides, there's nothing to steal...that would fit in someone's pocket, anyway."

Hench's eyes narrowed slightly. Shego was subtly mentioning something that was a slight sore point with him. A small loophole in his lease that Drakken had spotted. And which had cost a couple of members of HenchCo's real estate office a great deal.

But right now, he turned to the three flunkies who had accompanied him to the lair, focusing on the two who were meant to provide security. "You two escort this pair of 'interns' out of here, will you?"

Shego smirked and started to turn away, only to be confronted by a slender looking Japanese man in a neat three-piece black suit with a red silk shirt who absolutely radiated menace. She tensed immediately, though it would have taken a very observant individual to notice it. "Something I can do for you?" She asked casually.

The man responded with a sharp nod. "Yes indeed you may." He replied politely, then faster then Bernie could follow it, he brought something out of his suit jacket and presented it to Shego, who took an involuntary step back. "It would honor me greatly if you would autograph, please?"

Bernie blinked, then recognized the item. It was a copy of HenchCo's Summer catalog. And in it, she knew, were several pictures of Shego modeling a line of 'intimate wear' designed by Jack Hench's current wife.(Which allegedly had special features of interest to Hench's usual clientele) She suppressed a snort with an effort, aided by the memory that she herself was also in the catalog, though her face didn't show in any pictures. And what did in one, she'd rather forget all about.

Shego recovered her composure quickly. And though she winced inwardly, she decided that it was a good idea not to tick off such an obviously dangerous individual. "Sure." She replied with a shrug, "Where do you want it signed?" Then as the man hastily leafed through the pages to find the spot, Shego spotted at _least_ three more suddenly enboldened visitors pulling copies of the publication out and heading her way._ "Oh, you have GOT to be kidding!"_

"Yep, damn popular item, our Summer Catalog!" Hench boasted slyly, "Thinking of doing a supplement, using a few of the photos that didn't go in the first one!"

Having just completed her signature, Shego snapped her head around to glare at Hench. "Now, just a minute..." she began threateningly, then stopped when she realized Hench had an answer to her objections. Which he chose to voice anyway.

Hench smiled benignly as he shrugged expansively. "You signed the papers, Shego, the photos are ours to use as we see fit!"

Shego glared at his smug expression briefly, then turned to quickly sign the proffered catalogs. But even as she did, she noticed something familiar about a new arrival. "Don't look now," She said to Hench in a low voice, "But a cleverly disguised Will Du just came in."

Hench rolled his eyes, his expression souring. "'Cleverly Disguised' meaning he's a decoy to keep us from noticing other GJ agents slipping in, I take it?"

"He looks like a B-Movie _Yakuza_." Shego muttered as she signed the last catalog. For the moment, at least.

"And he doesn't look like the only infiltrator." Bernie whispered to her, "Or could there be another reason why that man's backside is glowing blue?"

Shego's face assumed an expression consistent with swallowing battery acid, as she smacked her forehead hard enough to make Bernie wince. "His glow increases wherever he tenses his muscles." She managed to grit out, "It's one of the reasons we insisted he never wear shorts as part of his costume!" She turned to take an actual look for herself, and groaned deep in her chest. "If he has a German accent to go with that get-up, I think I'll hurl! Got to get him out of here before Hench blames me for whatever happens next!" Checking to make sure Jack was busy networking, Shego strode casually towards her brother.

Bernie nodded and herself headed towards Will Du, prepared to perform a Heimlich Maneuver on the disguised agent. He'd also spotted and recognized Hego at an inopportune moment, while casually placing a _canape _in his mouth, and had apparently swallowed it whole.

Hego's outfit was that commonly associated with _Oktoberfest, _complete with _Lederhosen _and feathered hat. Shego didn't want to even ask who he was impersonating, though she had a sneaking suspicion. He was trying to affect a mean look, but it slipped considerably when he spotted Shego bearing down on him.

"Nervous, are we?"She asked in a low voice when she was close enough.

"Nervous? Not at all!" He replied automatically, "Er...do ve know each other, Frow-lane?"

Shego winced, looking around to see how many people were in earshot or even watching. She noticed Bernie patting Will Du on the back, but since the agent's back was turned, she didn't see the distressed look on his face. Then she ignored that nonsense and turned back to Hego. "Listen, Doofus, your cover's already blown, you need to get _out_ of here, before someone tries something!" Then she preempted any answer he planned to make with another question. "And _why_ exactly are you here, and not back in Go City?"

Looking back and forth in a terribly obvious attempt to spot eavesdroppers, Hego lowered his voice as much as he was able. "I'm here in response to a tip that a Go City villain is planning to attend! I'm certain it's Aviarius, this mountain lair would suit him perfectly!"

"_That's all we'd need!" _Shego thought sourly, but was reassured by something she knew that Hego didn't. "Listen, you big ox, nobody from Go received an invitation, Hench can't even put up with those loonies, even for business! So I repeat, you have to get out of here, now!"

"Nonsense! My disguise is well-nigh perfect, sister! You just go back to whatever disreputable things you were doing, and don't worry about me!"

Shego had been momentarily distracted by what she thought were the three aliens peering out from a passage on the far side of the chamber, obviously looking at Hego. Now she snapped her attention back to him. "Henry, do you remember the reason we banned you from including shorts in your uniform?"

He nodded crisply. "Why yes, there was an occasional problem with..." His voice trailed off, and his face began to darken as blood flooded into it along with realization. "It...it's glowing again, isn't it?" He whispered faintly.

"Why every insect in the area isn't trying to immolate itself on your butt, I have no idea." Shego replied. "Now, will you just go? I promise, if any of our home-grown villains show up here, I'll spot them, and make sure they don't do anything evil, okay?"

As her nervous brother nodded a hasty agreement, Shego was already failing on her promise. But with all the distractions, it was hardly surprising. Across the main chamber, a pair of men were forcing themselves to walk casually towards one of the exit passages. One was short and wiry, with thinning blond hair and a beak nose. The other was average in height and build, and actually quite handsome, with dark, wavy hair. They both wore business suits and sunglasses. The latter were not entirely incongruous in the well-lit lair.

As soon as they had slipped into the passage, the taller man visibly relaxed, leaning on the passage wall. "Whew! I was so sure she'd spot me at the last moment!" Then he looked at his companion was smiled widely. "But so far, my plan is working! Now, all we have to do is find what we're after, then you have to get past security, and the prize will be mine!" He kept his voice low.

His companion nodded, not returning the smile. "I assure you whatever security is in place here will not deter me, you will soon have what you desire." He said confidently.

The taller man clapped him on the back. "I have no doubts, my friend! Soon, Go City will tremble at the sight of the new improved, Tin Plate Tyrant!" He opened his mouth as if to laugh aloud, then stopped and cast a cautious glance back towards the main chamber, before chuckling softly. But maniacally.

His companion nodded approvingly. "You seem to have mastered the art of ranting at low volume, I am impressed!"

The Tyrant nodded happily. "Thank You! Now, let's proceed, shall we?" He looked back the way they had come. "I do wonder who that German muscle guy was that Shego was talking to?"

"He looked more Austrian to me." The other replied.

The Tyrant shrugged. "Whatever! In any event, the Day-Glo blue shorts were really tacky, he must have consulted those Fashionistas!" His companion nodded in agreement as they walked purposefully down the passage, deeper into the mountain lair.

0XX0X0XX0X0XX0X0XX0X0XX0

Well, a new story, which I intended to be a one-shot. Instead the need to post something has be putting it up as possibly the shortest chapter I've ever written.

For now, Please Read and Review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the rights to Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

Thanks to screaming phoenix, King in Yellow, CajunBear73, Michael Howard, and Reader101W for reviewing chapter one.

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

"Are you all right now, Will?" Bernadette Barr solicitously asked the disguised Global Justice agent after having to perform a Heimlich Maneuver to clear his airway of a _canape_ that had taken the wrong course. "And I hope you don't mind the informality, since we haven't met before, my name is..."

"I do not know this 'Will' person to whom you refer, Madam!" Will Du cut her off curtly, "And had no need of your assistance, I was perfectly capable of clearing my own throat! Your technique was substandard, you should leave First Aid to a professional!"

Bernie's friendly expression vanished in an instant. After a moment's silence, she leaned close to speak in Will's ear, the agent having turned his back dismissively. "You have a sign taped to your coattail. It says 'Kick Me, I'm a Global Justice Agent." She then turned and strode briskly away, altering her course immediately when she spotted a familiar flash of white vanishing up one passage.

After standing perfectly still for nearly a minute, Will Du slowly turned so his back was to the refreshments table. While sipping from a clear plastic cup of sparkling water, he casually reached behind his back and felt along his coattail. After a moment, his fingers stopped, and his face began to redden slightly. A slight tug, and he brought the item he'd discovered around to where he could see it clearly.

Now his face really turned red. After a moment, he crumpled the note, then lifted the table skirting and tossed the note under it and out of sight. He then stood up straight, squared his shoulders, and activated his hidden microphone. "Comanche to Control, there is a slight possibility my cover may be blown." He reported in a calm voice.

"Do tell?" Came the dry reply. In a location not that far away, three agents sitting at a large console checked a timer running on one screen, then two of them reached for their wallets. One of those was the agent acting as Du's control, who continued to speak to the young agent as he paid off on the bet as to how long Will would take to realize that he was basically a stalking horse. "In that case, I suggest a cautious withdrawal, Comanche. Let the other agents keep track of events."

Du's brow furrowed, and he looked around the room attentively. "Other agents?" He queried in a whisper, "I was unaware that there were any other agents, Control!"

"Nor did they know about you, Agent Du. To prevent any of you from compromising the others, you understand." He was glibly reassured, while unseen by him his control rolled his eyes and grinned at his two companions.

"Of course, I understand perfectly!" Will replied confidently. He continued to look for familiar faces as he spoke.

"Glad to hear it!" came the reply, "And I assume you are doing nothing to betray their presence or identity, such as obviously look around the room, searching for them?"

Will practically snapped to attention. "Of course not!" He replied, barely managing to keep his reply at a discreet volume. Then he swept the room with his eyes once more, but this time looking to see if anyone was paying him any attention. If they were(And of course, some were), they were concealing it nicely. Will himself assumed that they weren't, however, and nodded slightly before adjusting his shades and strolling casually towards the exit.

Behind him, the attendant behind the refreshment table sighed quietly, before whispering "Sometimes I feel sorry for him."

A tiny voice in her ear answered promptly. "He needs to learn a few things before he encounters any serious foes, Brenda, and he has a two-stage learning process: first admitting he might be doing things the wrong way, then accepting that us lesser mortals might actually be able to teach him the right way."

After a moment Brenda Core nodded a grudging agreement, before putting on a bright smile as two of the guests approached. "Food and/or drink, Sirs? There's spicy and mild snack mix, _canapes,_ and an _excellent_ selection of beverages!" She told them enthusiastically, managing to keep her smile fixed despite the look one gave her, as if wondering if she was part of the refreshments, as well.

Shego meanwhile had managed to get Hego's glutes unclenched enough so they no longer glowed, by the simple expedient of distracting his mind from the fact that he was in a cavern surrounded by villains. Of course, if they had chosen to attack him, Shego would have given odds that the cavern itself would have fallen first. Hence she was guiding him up the main entrance passage with a firm grip on his elbow, while he defended his actions.

"It is not as if this was the first time I assumed a false identity, sister!" he declared quietly. Ignoring her eye-roll as memories of the world's largest jockey flitted through her mind, he continued righteously "And I feel it is my responsibility to seek out all Go City villains wherever in the world they might flee! Even when they come to a town ably protected by it's own hero or heroine, as Middleton is by Miss Kim Possible!"

"The last time you came to the tri-cities, you unleashed a horde of Nanomoths on yourself and several Global Justice agents, including the old cyclops herself!" Shego pointed out sarcastically. Then she smirked as she remembered the surveillance video of Betty Director hastily diving into a small office in the Upperton lair as her uniform was literally eaten off her. Hego for his part turned deep red at the memory. "And besides, which of our old enemies would want to live this far from Go City? They're all a bunch of homebodies, basically!" she added reasonably.

"I admit that puzzled me as well." Hego said in a conspiratorial whisper, "But then I realized that their very motive might be the keen surveillance they are subjected to in Go City. They would obviously come here to plot and plan, free of the watchful eyes of Team Go!"

"Yeah, I can see that as a _big_ motiva..." Shego's voice trailed off as spotted another newcomer coming the other way. She was then reminded of a suggestion that Drakken had once made about an experiment to find out if stupidity had a critical mass.

Senor Senior Junior was coming her way, with a beautiful girl on each arm...

0X0X0X0X0X0

"We seem to be safe now." The leader of the three aliens assured his two companions, "It is unfortunate that there was someone here that was able to recognize us."

"Actually.." _Clang!_ "..two of us. Nice vertical leap, there!" Bernie complimented the leader as he picked himself up from the floor, checking his helmet for dents. The other two gingerly lowered themselves down from the walls of the passage, the impressions their fingers had made as they climbed up marking the path of their panicked ascent.

"Must have unintentionally set my suit's servos for a higher gravity environment." The leader said sourly as he managed to get upright again, regarding the woman warily. How had she snuck up on them? Shego, he could have understood.

"Nurses sometimes have to be very quiet to avoid disturbing patients, and babysitters even more so when checking on their charges." Bernie said casually, as if reading his thoughts. Then she fixed the leader with a stern glare. "Now, would you mind telling me what on Earth you three are doing here?"

The leader crossed his arm and probably glared back at her, but with the blank faces of the helmet, that could only be inferred by his attitude. "And why should we answer your question at all, Earth Female?"

"Earth Female?" Bernie replied mockingly. Then she shrugged. "Okay, let's play it your way. "You're aliens..." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder towards the main chamber, "And there are at least nine certified mad scientists out there. I blow the whistle, what are your chances of getting out of here un-dissected?"

"You wouldn't.." The Leader began, before he was interrupted.

"They'll put it on WhoTube!" One of the other aliens wailed.

"No one will believe it." The third answered, "Any more then they did when poor Fe'Derack bought it!"

Bernie's eyebrows rose slightly. "Friend of yours?"

The leader shrugged. "Passing acquaintance." He replied.

"Yeah, passed us in orbit a couple of times!" The second alien exclaimed, then started to giggle. The third promptly produced something that actually resembled a souped-up joy buzzer and smacked him on the back with it. The second alien's limbs and head promptly retracted into his body, and he dropped to the floor, now resembling a white garbage can. From which faint giggling still issued.

The leader's shoulders slumped a little, before he straightened up and addressed Bernie again. "As you can see, our mental health issues are growing worse the longer we're stuck with this job. Last week, after listening to Mego agonize for _three hours_ over a new audio greeting for his website, one of my crew tried to crash the ship into Rhode Island!"

"Why Rhode Island?" Bernie asked curiously.

"He wanted to take out a whole state, and we have a small ship, soooo..."

"Frankly, I doubt we could take out downtown Providence with our engines in their current state!" The other still upright alien irritably opined.

Bernie chose not to inquire further along that line. "Okay, back to my original question, why are you here, right now?"

"Because we're being audited!" The leader snapped back waspishly. "And they might take our ship away, and force us to find a ground base! Now, if they'd spring for a dome, I'd gladly park on the moon, but that's highly unlikely!"

That declaration took some time to process. But Bernie finally said "Well, taking your ship out of your hands might be a bright idea, considering what you just told me...but I thought you were going to be relieved, or your whole Team Go project shut down?"

The leader threw his hands up in despair and began to pace nervously. "The only team available is a group of student observers. And trust me, you do not want our race's equivalent to adolescents orbiting your world!"

"Yeah, we're still trying to find out what happened to the last planet they...visited." The other alien's voice trailed off lamely as the leader spun to face him.

Deciding that she really didn't wish to inquire further on that subject, Bernie asked a more practical question. "And how were you planning to pay Mister Hench his rent?"

"They're not." Came Jack Hench's voice, causing them all to spin and see the entrepreneur approaching them from the main chamber. "Sorry, boys, no more dealing with extraterrestrials on any level." He said to the three, "I have no wish to be visited by those guys in black again. The device that protects me from that neuralyzer of theirs works fine, but gives you an absolute _bear_ of a headache!"

Bernie again decided not to ask questions. There was, after all, a limit to how much weirdness a person could take. The leader of the aliens seemed to accept the declaration without protest. "Very well, it was a long shot, anyway!" He turned to his upright companion. "You roll him, I'll lead the way. At least it's all downhill!"

"Downhill?" Jack's eyebrows knitted in consternation, "Isn't that your ship attached to the mountainside above the entrance?"

The leader waved his hand dismissively. "Nah, that's not ours!"

"Cool ride, though!" The other alien said as he rolled his tipped over compatriot down the passage.

Behind them, Jack Hench and Bernie could only shake their heads.

0X0X0X0X0X0

Shego had managed to get Hego to the entrance without further incident, where she was surprised to find a half-dozen cabs parked. Four were from **Tri-Cities Cab and Coach, **the other two independents by their markings, though Shego was quite certain one driver was Wallace Dill, a Global Justice agent, in a pretty fair disguise.

"Well, we're clear." She told Hego, her relief clear in her voice, "Now you get out of here, I'll keep an eye out for any old Go City villains who might show up, though I really doubt any of them could afford Hench's prices." Then she paused thoughtfully. "Well, except for Timmy P., but he's even less likely to want a lair this far from home then Aviarius."

"Yet he does constantly manage to afford the construction of his very impressive battle suits." Hego pointed out. Then he began to fidget nervously. "Um, sister, about cab fare..."

Shego's head snapped around from her scrutiny of a low-slung black vehicle that didn't quite look street-legal. She regarded her brother incredulously. "You came by cab?"

"Well, how else?" He replied defensively, "I mean, you remember the time I tried to disguise the Go-Kart as a villainous conveyance? We were cleaning up paper mâche around Go city for weeks afterwards!"

"Don't exaggerate!" Shego snapped, "Most of it came off in one big chunk and landed in the fountain in front of City Hall! Cheap dye turned the water red for a week, but that was nothing compared to..." Then she broke off, covering her face with one hand for a moment as she calmed down. After a moment, she regarded his outfit critically. "And no pockets in those shorts?" With a resigned sigh she reached in one pocket and took out a small money clip. Which could electrocute a gorilla if improperly handled. Peeling off a fifty, she gave it to him. "And no, don't worry about paying me back, just get out of here before a war starts, okay?" She said the last in as kindly a tone as she could muster at the moment.

Hego nodded glumly. "Botched this up as well, didn't I?" He sighed deeply. "Shego...Ana, I know we've had problems..."

"Which we have no time to talk about right here and now!" Shego stated firmly. Then she said something that astonished her nearly as much as Hego. "Look, I'll come to Go City next week, and we can talk, okay?" As her mind whirled, wondering if the aliens hadn't removed all of their behavior modification from her head, Hego gave her an shocked look, that started to morph into happy, but then became suspicious. "Seriously?" He asked.

After a moment's hesitation, Shego nodded confidently. "Yes, seriously! Now get your blue butt in gear...no, no, it's not glowing again, just get going, will you?"

She watched as Hego made his way to one cab, looking back at her once with a doubtful look, but then he got in the vehicle, which fortunately was both roomy and boasted a strong suspension, and was driven away.

Shego breathed a deep sigh of relief...then reached out and grabbed a man passing her by the collar, dragging him around to face her. "And just why have you been trying to get up the nerve to pass me for the last three minutes? And what are you clenching in your pocket?"

0X0X0X0X0X0

In a deeper part of the lair, but one that still lay close to the slope of the mountain, the Tin Plate Tyrant and his companion were contemplating a pair of huge doors. "Okay, these are the doors to the big hangars, the only question is, which one is the one we want?" The Tyrant mused.

"Well, let me see what kind of security protects them, while you make up your mind." The shorter man replied as he walked over to study the keypad adjacent to the first door, while looking for signs of any sensors he might be about to trigger. He scratched his chin idly as he scrutinized the keypad, then reached into one pocket of his suit jacket to remove an object that resembled a PDA. He pointed one end of it at the pad, and typed in a command. "Hmm, decoy." He muttered after a moment, "A booby-trapped decoy, at that!"

The Tyrant took several steps back from the door. "Really? Well, that's hardly surprising, I suppose."

The other man nodded absently. "Hardly surprising at all." He replied, eyes sweeping the walls, ceiling, and finally the floor. Then they widened, and he dropped to one knee. "Now, this might be the real means of entry!" He said in a quiet, yet excited voice. He opened a small panel that had been nearly invisible, blending in perfectly with the floor. Under it was another keypad.

"Can you open it?" the Tyrant asked with nervous anticipation. He didn't approach the other man, however, having been warned that when working, he liked his 'space' unviolated.

"Let's see." The man responded noncommittally, pulling a rolled up lead from his pocket. Releasing it from the twist-tie that held it in a coil, he plugged one end into his device, and the other he inserted in a compatible slot next to the keypad. He then typed a command into the device, and studied the results on the tiny screen. After a moment, he shook his head slowly. "I don't think this is it." He muttered.

At which point the door, or rather the front layer of it, slammed down on him.

0X0X0X0X0X0

Bernie spotted Hurricane Shego storming into the main chamber. Everyone with the slightest psychic sensitivity seemed to suddenly find reasons to move away from her. Bernie hurried over to meet her. "Okay, what's the matter?" She asked anxiously as Shego's head swiveled about, her mind apparently trying to work something out.

"Some joker is up one of these passages, hocking underwear he claims is mine!" Shego snarled. "Sold some schmuck a pair of panties for fifty bucks, and I doubt he's the only one!"

"So someone found something you forgot, and made a buck off it, that's no reason to get mad, Shego." Those words came from Hench, who had overheard Shego's angry tyrade.

Shego fixed him with a glare that actually made a bead of sweat appear on his forehead. "I didn't forget _anything!_ The furniture in my room was mine, so I took that to, then I sterilized the rooms to make sure no one could get any genetic material I may have left behind! So, no left behind undies, Jack, we have a scam artist working here!" Then she looked at him suspiciously. "Unless you already knew that?"

Hench seemed genuinely offended. "Shego, I never support con artists! And I certainly don't run penny ante scams! Fifty bucks? You insult me!" Then he turned away, appearing to speak into his jacket cuff.

After a moment's consideration, Shego had to grudgingly accept the logic of that. Then a new distraction occurred, courtesy of Senor Senior Junior.

"I don't recall there being a skylight in here the last time I visited." He declared loudly, looking up at a circular portal at the end of a tunnel carved through the rock above. His two companions clung to his arms, though one was making some odd head movements. Shego's eyes narrowed, fixing on a rather elaborate barrette in her hair. _"Some kind of mini-cam, I'll bet! Trust Junior to come in with at least one spy on his arm! Probably a Fed."_

"Junior's been here before? Bernie asked in a whisper.

Shego nodded. "Yeah. Early on, Doctor D invited all the villains over for a meet-and-greet. Except Dementor, of course. How else do you suppose Senor Senior Senior developed such a taste for convenience-store snacks?"

"Why do you think Dementor's here today?" Bernie then asked, "Think he's planning to move in?"

Shego snorted. "I doubt it, he's a castle person, not a cave person! Probably here to see if Doc D left anything lying around! Willi would never admit it, but he respected the Doc's ability to come up with an idea, lame or not, and make it a functioning reality in such a short time. With Willi, everything was always planned out, two or three schemes ahead. One reason he had the financial problems that let his sister pull her takeover was that with all his overlapping projects, he never allowed time for his funds to build up. That worried shareholders...ah, you can guess the rest!"

Hank Perkins had meanwhile hurried over to answer Junior's question. "That's a fairly recent addition," He announced, "A rather clever way to deal with some damage caused by a little accident Doctor Drakken had with an invention!" Hench shot him a dark look, bu the failed to notice it.

"One of Doctor Drakken's inventions burned a hole through that much rock?" Bernie sounded a little awed this time.

"Nah!" Shego replied, "It took five or six, not sure myself! See, Doctor D always pointed any directed-energy weapons he built at the one spot. Took six or seven shots from the various machines before he blew that hole clean through. Mind you, he only fired about four of them, Stoppable managed two, and old Hank there triggered one by accident."

"Kim ever try to get in through the skylight?" Bernie sounded as if she already knew the answer to that, if no the reason.

"Not a chance! Besides it being so obvious, therefore almost certainly booby-trapped, she'd have come down in the middle of the main floor, out in the open. Kimmie's way too smart to put herself in such an exposed position!" Then Shego locked eyes with a swarthy man in a turtleneck and a two-gun shoulder holster, who promptly looked away guiltily. "I think I know where the underwear salesman is, stay right here, I'll be right back!" She headed towards the passage the man had emerged from, which was actually not the one leading to her former quarters.

"Not likely!" Bernie replied, and took off after her.

0X0X0X0X0X0

If it had been physically possible, the Tin Plate Tyrant would have been imbedded in the wall opposite the trap that had just crushed his companion. As it was, he was pressing back against it so hard he was probably going to have impressions in his skin from the rocks for hours.

Only half the thickness of the door had been the trap, the other half still barred the way. The Tyrant noticed a sign in large print affixed to the still standing half.

**'Too squeamish to clean it up yourself? Call 1-800-HENCHCO for quick and reliable clean-up service at reasonable rates. No questions asked, or ****answered. Extra charge if remains more then 24 hours old.' **Beneath that, in print too small for the Tyrant to read from his current position, was an endorsement from an association of forensic scientists:'Cleanest crime scenes we've ever seen!' The endorsement had been obtained in Las Vegas, at approximately 2 AM in a small strip club, which was actually mentioned in the microscopic disclaimer below the fine print.

Oxygen deprivation finally forced him to move, opening his mouth to take in a lungful of air. Then he relaxed and dropped unsteadily to the floor. He bent over with his hands on his knees for a minute, trying to get his heart-rate and breathing normalized.

Finally he composed himself and stood up, glaring at the barrier that might stand between him and his prize. Then his eyes darted to the other door and he winced. Halfway to one, still barred from the other, which one concealed what he sought?

"Now what am I supposed to so?" He muttered. "There has to still be a way in! I mean, he needs ventilation for the hangars...but if Kim Possible kept coming in through the vents, they _have _to be trapped!" He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms, sulking while he concentrated. Though he did have the presence of mind to move one foot to avoid the trickle of blood running from under the trap to the drain on his side of the passage.

Then faint sounds came to his ears, and he straightened up, then flattened himself against the wall. Unless he was hearing things, he suspected that someone was sneaking down the passage towards him. He reacted by inching away from the approaching noises until he found a small niche to back into while keeping his eyes fixed on the bend in the passage that concealed the source of the noise.

A figure came into view, a short individual who was wearing the clothes of a modern Arabian businessman, white _keffiyeh_ over conservative black business suit, and sunglasses? The passage was not as well-lit as the chambers upstairs, which should have made the glasses a hindrance, but the way the figure moved indicated that they were not a problem. _"But then again, who says that they're standard sunglasses?" _The Tyrant mused. _"But more importantly, is this guy looking for the same thing as me? And does he have a means of getting in? This is certainly getting interesting..."_

0X0X0X0X0X0

Shego meanwhile had found her prey...already secured, by Jack Hench's two security goons. The subject was a short skinny man who's feet were currently flailing a good two feet above the floor as he was held aloft by his arms.

Shego groaned as she beheld him. "Oh, for the love of..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

"You know him?" Bernie asked as she caught up with her friend.

Shego pinched the bridge of her nose as she answered. "Ohhh yes, I know this schmuck!" She lowered her hand and fixed the prisoner with a dark look. "Conner Joe. And yes, that's his real name, and yes, he's a con man! Can't stop pulling scams to save his own life. Rep so bad even Hego knows better then to believe him, and that's saying something!"

She stepped closer to the man, who tried to cringe away from her as best he could. "Now, Shego...or should I say, _Ana_?" The hint of a confident smile began to appear on his face.

Shego just rolled her eyes. "Man, are you behind! GJ knows my real name, Kim Possible knows my real name, the damn _National Imposer_ knows my real name, what rock have you been living under!" The man quailed again as Shego leaned in almost nose-to-nose, emerald eyes flashing. "And now, you're running a used underwear scam? Using _me_?" One of the security men held up a plastic trash bag in which various lacy items could be seen, smiling smugly.

"Now, now, Shego, you know I can't help myself!" The man whined. "It's compulsive, I need to afford therapy to change my ways!"

Shego continued to glare at him a moment longer then shook her head and turned her back. "Whatever! So Hego was right, a Go City villain did come here! A lame one, but a villain!"

"Hey!" Conner Joe shouted, "Words hurt, you know!" Then he lowered his voice. "And _no one_ knew I'd be here, no one knew I was coming here! He was probably talking about Timmy P., Not _me_!"

Shego spun around, a puzzled look on her face. "Timmy P. is here?" She asked warily. Conner Joe nodded vigorously. "Timothy Preston Tinsley is here?" She asked with more emphasis. Joe nodded even more vigorously. "Timothy P. Tinsley, AKA the Tin Plate Tyrant, is _here?" _Shego's voice had a touch of alarm in it now as she pointed emphatically at the floor.

Joe's nodding was now sending vibrations through the two men holding him, who had to increase their grip. "Yeah! He's here, honest! I saw him slipping past you while you were distracted earlier. Him and his friend went down one of the other passages!"

"Friend?" Shego echoed, "Anyone you know?"

"Uh, not by name, no! But, I know he's a break-in artist, real high-tech! Keeps having bouts of bad luck though, but real good at what he does!"

Shego's eyes widened. "Oh, _NO_! There's only one thing still locked up around here, and that's Doctor D's giant robot! If that mech-crazy moron gets hold of that..." And with that she spun around and dashed back towards the main chamber, this time sprinting full out. Bernie set out after her, but had no chance of keeping up this time.

Behind them, Conner Joe looked thoughtful as he hung in the security men's grips. Then he spoke up. "Guys, if whatever is potentially about to happen scares Shego that much, do you think it's a good idea to hang around here?"

Both men blinked, then locked glances for a moment. Then they took off running towards the main entrance, retaining a firm grip on Joe's arms. And the bag of lingerie.

0XX00X00XX000XX00X0XX000XX00

Okay, ran long again. Next chapter may be quite short so it ends where this one should have, sigh

For now, Please Read and Review


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the rights to Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.

I'd like to thank those who reviewed the last chapter, Michael Howard, Reader101W, CajunBear73, Robert Teague and Screaming Phoenix.

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

As Shego ran, questions popped into her head. And a couple of them would cause her to alter her headlong dash to the hangar where the robot sat. She was also thinking unkindly of Doctor Drakken, who was basically responsible for this mess, beyond just being the reason _she_ was having to deal with it.

He had no further use for the huge machine himself, yet was loath to sell it to someone else and be held in any way accountable for whatever purpose it was subsequently put to. On the other hand, letting Jack Hench purchase it would be fine. Hench would then be responsible for whoever he chose to sell it to in turn. Or so Drakken reasoned.

Drakken had already managed to auction off most of his old equipment, including his fleet of hovercraft save one. But the robot was a problem. Just flying it at the moment would violate FAA regulations. And if he took it cross country on foot...well, another villain had already experienced the mockery of having his death machine ticketed by the Highway Patrol, and Drakken had no desire to have the same happen to him. So, he had been unable to deliver the machine to the auction location, which was in fact his responsibility.

But trying to sell it to Hench on the spot, and let him deal with the problem, had led to a bid so insultingly low that Drakken could not countenance it. So the former mad scientist played his trump card.

One of the incentives in his lease had been worded rather obscurely. And Drakken had been able to interpret it as allowing him to store the big machine indefinitely in it's hangar, and forbid the new owner access to that space. This had caused two members of Hench's legal staff to seek other employment, and left the man himself quite displeased.

Unless he found a tenant willing to put up with that inconvenience(After all, there were two hangar bays, surely there was someone who could make do with one!), he was going to have to pay Drakken a reasonable sum for the machine, something he was loathe to do unless forced.

Hence the machine still sat in it's hangar. But one question that bothered Shego was, how had Team Go's armored foe actually found that out? And how did he know his way around? Conner Joe had seen the Tyrant go down one passage, but was it the right one, or was he searching all of them? To avoid wasting too much time, Shego headed straight for the men with the possible answers as soon as she entered the main chamber. The relieved look on Jack's face when he saw her registered too late for her to change her plan.

Hench also spoke before she could, indicating a woman standing next to him that seemed vaguely familiar to Shego. "My dear Miss Black, I wonder if you could reassure our distinguished visitor from the Middleton Chamber of Commerce that I did _not_ misrepresent myself at the time I originally developed these caverns as a residence!"

Hench's use of her real name also threw Shego off-stride, allowing the lady to speak first. "In point of fact, Mister Hench, I represent the Chambers of Commerce of all three of the Tri-Cities in this matter, due to the fact that my two colleagues chose not to finish our journey here." The woman couldn't have been much past fifty, and sounded perfectly serious though polite. And she bore a resemblance to...

"Mom, what are you doing here?" A slightly winded Bernadette Barr asked in astonishment as she came up alongside Shego. Who promptly did a double take between the two women. She'd only seen Bernie's Mom once before, at a Halloween party that was not one of her favorite memories. And the woman had been in costume at the time.

"I could ask you the same question, dear." Mrs Barr replied curiously, "But as I was telling these people, Mike Lowe from Upperton simply lost his nerve. And as for Wendy Upton from Lowerton..." She paused to roll her eyes, "She took one look at whatever that is hanging over your entrance, shouted 'My God, They're here, I must go back and pack a bag before they depart!' Then she jumped from our car into a taxi going down the mountain, which already had a large Bavarian man as a passenger!"

Shego grimaced, but tried to take control of the conversation. "Listen, Hench. We don't..." Then she was interrupted by Hank Perkins addressing Mrs Barr.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, did you say a large Barbarian man was in the cab?"

She shook her head. "No, I said a large _Bavarian_ man, young man." she replied tolerantly.

"Oh." Hank replied in a disappointed tone, "Then I guess Nonac the Ax is still a no-show. And I got a full keg for him." He shook his head thoughtfully. "Still, I'm sure there's a frat at one of the local colleges..."

Shego clenched both fists tightly as she fought to maintain control. "Hench, listen, someone's trying to steal Doctor D's old giant robot!"

Hench's eyes narrowed. "Which is still Drakken's property..."

"On your property," Shego countered, "Making you liable.."

"Yes, yes! We can argue the point later!" Hench replied sharply, "Do you know who the thief is?"

Shego nodded. "Yeah, the Tin Plate Tyrant, from Go City."

Hench looked a touch incredulous. "Timothy P. Tinsley, you mean?" Shego rolled her eyes.

"I was wondering why the same initials for his real name and his _nomme _de_ crime_?" Bernie asked, "Doesn't make him sound all that smart!"

"Oh, he's smart all right!" Shego declared, "He had no choice with the name! See, he built his first suit of powered armor in the family garage, and his mother came across it. Not realizing what he intended to use it for, she monogrammed it for him, and he didn't notice in time."

Mrs Barr's eyes widened. "Monogrammed a suit of armor?" She asked querulously.

Shego shrugged. "His Mom's an engraver. Anyway, Hego saw the letters and interrupted him just as he was going to announce his _real_ villain name, whatever it was supposed to be, and asked what the T, P, T stood for. And that was the best he could come up with." She paused as she beheld Bernie's dubious look. "Listen, you ever heard the line 'There's eight million stories in the Naked City? Well, there's two and a half million in Go City, and most of them belong in the funny pages!"

"I heard there was a hero that ended up with a lame name the same way back in the sixties or something." Hank Perkins commented.

"Yeah, well, Timmy P. didn't like getting stuck with that moniker at first, but eventually couldn't separate himself from it, so he's learned to live with it." Shego explained, then shook her head. "Listen, we don't have time for this! _How_ did he know the robot was even here? And does he know exactly where to find it?" Her frowning gaze switched back and forth between Perkins and Hench.

"Umm..." Hank began then froze in fear as Shego's eyes locked onto him. She unfroze him by clearing her throat. "Ah...yes, if he received one of the mailers...I sort of mentioned the robot as being part of the tour.." He consulted his watch, "Which I really should be organizing!"

"Perkins," Shego growled, "Does the tour include demonstrations of the security features like the pit traps, etcetera?"

Looking decidedly nervous Hank shook his head. "None were planned..."

"Well, we can change that with a few practical demonstrations, _IF YOU DON'T ANSWER MY QUESTION, NOW!" _Hench's two security men had just entered the main chamber, Conner Joe still suspended between them. Now with perfect synchronization they spun about and returned the way they had come, releasing Joe with one pair of arms and then catching him with their opposites before he could fall more then a few inches, and heading back into the passage they'd emerged from.

There was also a great commotion around them as many of the guests tried to make use of the few pieces of cover available. "Shego, calm down!" Bernie whispered urgently, "There's a few people in here whose survival instincts we don't want to trigger!" Shego merely shrugged, keeping Perkins' gaze transfixed with her own glare.

"Yes, there's a map!" Hank wailed, "Though it's just the bare essentials, see?" He turned and grabbed a folded glossy flyer from the podium besides the entrance and held it out to Shego, who snatched it and quickly perused it.

She grimaced. "It's good enough!" Then she looked again. "Oh, you got one thing wrong. You marked the waste disposal room as the henchman's 'lounge', and marked it as an alternate mens room." She turned and strode rapidly away.

"Is that a big problem?" Hank called after her.

"If you consider what kind of 'waste' the Doctor had left over from his experiments, I'd say 'yes'!" Shego called back. "Bernie, stay with your Mom, and I really suggest you both get out of here, it's really not your scene! Nice to meet you again, Mrs Barr!" Then she was gone from sight down the passage towards the hangars.

"Oh Boy." Hank muttered as Hench fixed him with a baleful glare.

"So..you're now friends with an ex-villainness, Dear?" Mrs Barr asked Bernie pointedly.

Her daughter grinned weakly back, then cast a concerned look towards where Shego had gone. "Let's talk about it as we exit, Mom, things might be quite dangerous around here in a bit." She said quietly, taking her mother's arm and steering her towards the entrance.

Though allowing herself to be steered, Mrs Barr protested "I'm not done with my business with Mister Hench, Bernadette."

"Did you say Barr?" Hench himself had caught up with them, "I thought you said _Farr_ when you came in! Are you by any chance related to Big Ed Barr?"

Mrs Barr eyed him warily now, but answered politely. "I'm his wife. And mother to this young woman, if you hadn't already caught on to that fact. Now again, about your representation of this place..."

Hench smiled broadly. "I believe I said that it was intended to be occupied by an eccentric and possibly reclusive individual, and what could have been more true?" He told her smoothly. "Now, let's step outside while we continue to discuss this, shall we? There are some fairly questionable types in here, I'm afraid! This sort of thing attracts them. Much to my dismay, of course!"

Dropping back a step, Bernie tried to suppress a smile. If Jack Hench thought he was going to charm her Mother...then she frowned and glanced again back into the lair. _"I'm half inclined to call Kim, but having her arrive in the middle of this crowd might end up bringing the whole mountain down on our heads!"_

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

Professor Dementor had maintained proper discipline most of the way to his objective, constantly scanning his surroundings as he proceeded, but once the hangar doors came into his sight, his gaze began to shift less and less, and soon was fixed solely on them, so he failed to see the Tin Plate Tyrant pressing himself into the niche in the opposite wall. The much dimmer lighting in the passage compared to the main chamber certainly helped the Go City villain, plus the fact that he was rather slender in the first place.

But then Dementor actually processed what he was seeing, the sprung trap, and the stream of blood flowing across the floor. He stopped and became more cautious as he drew a small but very dangerous looking pistol from one pocket. The Tyrant tried to meld with the stone as he held his breath.

But even while scanning the passage, Dementor's eyes kept flicking back to the hangar door. His impatience got the better of his caution soon enough. He stopped his survey to study the evidence of the previous attempt. "Vell, it appears I am not de only one who seeks to get a look at Doctor Drakken's new aircraft! An unfortunately for you, you vere not sufficiently prepared for the security systems of this lair!"

"_Aircraft?"_ The Tyrant mused, _"We're not after the same thing, perhaps we could cooperate?" _But after only the briefest consideration, he shook his head. _"Nah, the Tyrant shall triumph alone...as soon as he opens the door for me, or shows me how he does it!" _And with a flick of his wrist, he slid a telescoping riot baton from his sleeve, then carefully eased it open rather then allowing it to snap open.

Meanwhile Dementor placed himself in front of the door the Tyrant's companion had fatally failed to get through. He adjusted his _keffiyeh_, patting it as if to settle it in place, then took a small device out that looked like a PDA from what the Tyrant could tell. He held it in front of him and activated it, then began tapping it's keys.

There was a sudden series of beeps, The sound of some machinery, and then the inner half of the door slid directly up into the top of it's arch. The anxious Tyrant leaned forwards to get a better look inside, even as he heard Dementor make a sound of disappointment. "Empty!" The diminutive German exclaimed. He then looked down at his feet and the blood which no longer flowed. "Bad luck, _mein _friend, you died for the wrong door!"

The Tyrant nodded to himself. _"So, that little gadget opens the doors? Child's play for me to figure out how to use it!" _He thought eagerly, and began to creep towards his oblivious target. Dementor was tapping keys again, paying little attention to his surroundings as he began to move towards the unopened door.

Holding the baton in his left hand, the Tyrant had a momentary qualm as he raised it to strike. _"How hard do I hit this guy? I mean, I don't really want to kill him, he might have friends who'd come for revenge. But, he's wearing that headdress, that will cushion the blow...ah, what the heck, it's all in a day's work for a working supervillain!" _And with that he struck downwards, with just short of his full strength.

There was an ominous _crack_ as the baton connected, but the Tyrant ignored it, concentrating on catching Dementor's device as it jumped out of his hand. He did so, then jumped back, expecting his foe to collapse unconscious.

Instead, after only a moment, the German villain spun around to face him, face livid with rage, and the dangerous looking pistol back in his hand. "You _Schwein!_ How dare you hit me from behind!"

Cranking his jaw back shut after the shock of _not _seeing Dementor fall, the Tyrant stammered, "But-but, I'm a villain, we're supposed to do things like that!" Then his eyes flickered to the top of Dementors head, "And by the way, you're hat is on fire, I think!"

Dementor was busy responding to his first protest. "Dat may be zo, but HOW DARE YOU...Vat?" He reached up to pat the top of his head, just as a sharp _POP_ issued from his smoldering _keffiyeh._ He snatched his hand back for a second, then seized the head gear and threw it to his right, where it landed in front of the still sealed hangar door. The Tyrant's eyes widened as he saw the helmet the German wore underneath. (He had not in fact recognized Dementor, knowing little or nothing about Kim Possible and her stable of villains)_"You idiot! _You haf destroyed my security countermeasures device! Now how am I supposed to break into the other hangar!" The shout caused the Tyrant's ears to ring.

His eyes flicked back and forth between the smoldering _keffiyeh _and the device he now held. "You used _that_ to open the door?" he asked in confusion, "Then what were you doing with this?" He held up the PDA.

"Texting _mein_ girlfriend, you _verdammt schweinhund!" _Dementor shouted back. "Now, give dat back to me, this instant!" He waved the gun menacingly.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down!" The Tyrant pleaded, sidestepping a little to his left. As Dementor matched his move, the Go City villain tried to reason with him. "Listen, I'm sorry, but listen, I'm not after that plane you're looking for, I just want to steal Drakken's Giant Robot!"

That caused Dementor's eyes to narrow suspiciously. "Dat piece of junk? Vy would you want that?"

The Tyrant beamed at him. "It may be a piece of junk to _you_, but I have to tell you, when I saw it flying over Go City that one time..." He trailed off briefly, a rapturous look appearing briefly on his face before he shook himself. "I've been aching to have something like it! Building it myself is out of the question, my garage is way too small, and space is at such a premium! But then I Heard about this Open Lair thing, and I though '_This_ is my chance!'" He was still sliding to his left, on the simple premise that standing still in front of a lunatic with a gun was a bad idea, not actually with a plan in mind.

Dementor shrugged. "Dat's very nice, now give me my PDA so it doesn't fry ven I shoot you!"

"Whoa!" The Tyrant frantically exclaimed, "There's no need for..." Then he looked at the screen of the PDA, where a return message was displayed, and his eyes widened. "Whoaaa, you and the girlfriend actually do that?" He exclaimed incredulously.

Dementor's face turned bright red. "GIVE ME DAT PDA!" He screamed, just as his foot connected with the discarded _keffiyeh._ Which immediately beeped several times in a very irregular sequence. Both mens' eyes went to the smoldering head gear. "Not broken?" Dementor mused in wonder.

At which point the front panel of the second door swung hard open and swatted him down the passage like a tennis ball before slamming into the wall.

The Tyrant found himself doing a poor imitation of a certain arachnid-themed hero on the far side of the passage again, before losing his grip and tumbling to the floor. Only to nearly leap back up when the panel swung shut again. And then to his amazement, the whole door slid up into the ceiling. And in the space beyond...

His jaw dropped, and stumbled forwards as if in a daze. And barely made it across the threshold when the door came back down again with a solid _thump_ that sent him diving to the floor within the hangar.

After a moment to get his heart to beat at a more sedate pace, he raised himself from the floor to study his heart's desire. A beatific smile spread across his face, and he flung his arms wide. "Nir..Va..NA!" He shouted, then leaped to his feet to scamper towards the giant robot.

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

The last thing Shego expected to see as she turned a corner into the last stretch to the hangar was a translucent force bubble containing Professor Dementor flying towards her, bouncing from wall to ceiling to floor to wall, and so on. And by the time she'd processed it, she had no time to stop and double back. Nor any room to avoid the sphere. The only blessing she received was the fact that the force bubble was soundproof, because her ears otherwise may have been seared by the language being shouted within it.

But then the bubble hit her and sent her flying back the way she had come, to bounce hard off one wall and slide to stop in a crumpled heap.

The fact that the force bubble ceased to exist a second after impact, leaving Dementor tumbling head over heels didn't register with her, she was already out cold.

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

"I really don't see any cause for alarm, Ladies." Jack Hench told Bernie and her Mom reassuringly, "First this so-called 'Tyrant' would have to circumvent the security system on the hangar, which is one feature Doctor Drakken always kept fully upgraded! Second, he'd have to figure out how to operate the robot, providing he could crack whatever security protocols Drakken installed in it. And third, he'd have to find the access code to actually open the hangar doors so he could escape!" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, "All before Shego gets to him! So what do you think of his odds?"

The words were hardly out of his mouth when a rumbling noise became audible. The criminal entrepreneur turned around to look up the mountain, a frown on his face. Which turned into an expression of shock as a large opening appeared high on the slopes above him. And within a moment, the object of their discussion flew into view, flames roaring from it's exhausts.

"I don't know," Bernie replied, "But I wish I'd taken them five minutes ago!"

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

At the Middleton City Hall, Deputy Mayor Jean Stoppable was in her office going over some financial reports. Francis Lerman, AKA 'Frugal Lucre', now a financial adviser to the city government, stood idly looking out the office window as he waited for her to finish. Then something caught his eye...

"Say Jean, is there any chance the Air Force would be conducting any missile tests around here?" He asked with exaggerated casualness.

"Um, What?" She took a moment to shift her attention from her reading material to Lucre. Puzzled, she replied "No, not much chance at all, Francis, why?"

"Well, in that case, is there any chance at all that Mount Middleton could be volcanic?" He asked with considerably less nonchalance.

Now worried, Jean stood up and moved to the window. "Not a chance, Francis...Oh!"

"Then I think we may have a problem..."

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

_'BEEP BEEP BE DEEP'_

**And so we close out another chapter. This where the previous chapter was originally meant to end, but I added a few things...**

**Please, Read and Review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.**

**Thanks to BlazeStryker, Robert Teague, CajunBear73, Reader101w, Michael Howard and Screaming Phoenix for reviewing the last chapter.**

**X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0**

For five minutes Drakken's giant robot had hovered just outside his lair, as many apprehensive people watched it warily, some moving towards their personal vehicles or one of the cabs that had come up the mountain. One of the cabbies turned away all would-be fares, despite some substantial sums of money being offered. Then a young woman dressed as a hostess for the Open Lair dashed out of the entrance and jumped into the front seat of the cab, which promptly headed down the access road as fast as the driver dared.

Having disdained a ride himself, telling himself the walk would do him good, Will Du had gone nearly a half-mile down the road when he heard the roar of the robot's jets, and turned in time to see it emerge from the mountain. He knew there should be something he should be doing about it, but no ideas came immediately to mind. He nearly failed to notice the speeding cab until it pulled to a screeching halt next to him, and the driver yelled. "Get in, Will!" Du did a double take before the driver pulled the shaggy brown wig off his head and became recognizable as Wallace Dill, a senior GJ agent.

To his credit, as soon as he recognized Dill, Will jumped into the back seat without question, noticing Brenda Core, another agent, removing her own disguise. But seeing the hostess uniform alone made Will realize where he'd seen her inside the lair, at the refreshment table. He was still a little miffed at not being told that there would be other agents in the lair with him, he had gotten a certain thrill from the belief that he had been alone in the lion's den, so to speak.

He glanced out the rear window to check on the movements of the robot, but instead saw something else that alarmed him. The big glittering 'top' had detached itself from the mountain and was heading their way. "Agent Dill, I believe we should get moving, we may be at risk!" He commented as calmly as he could.

"Nah, we're fine." Dill replied, exchanging a knowing look with Brenda Core. He then switched the ignition off.

Will was so focused on the approaching object that it took him a moment to realize the vibrations from the engine had ceased. By that time, the object had come to a halt hovering directly above them. "Why have you shut the engine off! That strange object is directly overhead, and we have no idea what villain owns it! We may have been identified as Global Justice agents!"

"Oh, they positively know we're Global Justice agents, Will." Brenda replied, as she made sure her seat belt was fastened. "Better buckle in, Will."

Before Will could reply, he had to brace himself as the cab lurched..._upwards_! He reached for the door handle, only to realize that they were already nearly thirty feet up. Visions of alien abduction alternated with nefarious villains doing likewise, but he suppressed his feelings of panic, noting that neither Dill nor Core seemed unduly concerned. If he hadn't been seemingly trying to drive his fingers through the upholstery, he would have seemed the perfect picture of composure.

Then the sunlight was cut off as the vehicle was lifted inside the mysterious craft. But after a moment, light of an artificial nature flooded the vehicle. As the cab came to an abrupt stop, he focused on a familiar figure standing outside the front passenger door.

Doctor Betty Director was all business. "Welcome aboard, agents, we need to get moving here, our surveillance operation just became something else entirely!"

000000000

"Okay, why is he just hovering there for so long?" Bernadette Barr wondered aloud.

"Probably still puzzling out Drakken's control system, so he can fly it back to Go City." Jack Hench opined, studying the robot critically. Drakken had repainted it with a mixed scheme of black and metallic blue, and the limbs were thicker then Hench remembered from photos of it's only previous flight. It if was armed, and it certainly was, the weapons were well concealed.

Bernie regarded Hench skeptically. "He took off without figuring out how to fly it first?"

"He's a man, Bernadette." Her mother observed dryly, "And I suppose I should tell you that there's a very poor special effect hovering next to your left ear, dear."

Bernie tensed slightly, then raised her eyes heavenwards briefly before turning her head to study a shimmering globe of light almost touching her shoulder. And it did indeed somehow look like a cheap movie effect. "Don't need to guess who you are, do I?" She was then distracted by the movement of the strange ship, flying down the road to hover over a cab that had just left. Then her jaw dropped as the cab rose up and disappeared into the belly of the glittering craft.

"See, that's where we get such a bad reputation!" the huffy voice came from the ball of light, "And in broad daylight! No respect for tradition and proper abduction protocols!"

The voice was very familiar to Bernie, who cranked her mouth shut and turned to address the globe. "Was there something you wanted?" She asked warily.

"Please, Miss Barr, we do not deserve your distrust...on this occasion. As I believe you already know, we monitor the health of all of our, um, 'subjects'?"

Now Bernie frowned in concern. "Has something happened to Shego?" she asked forcefully.

"Please calm down, Miss Barr." The voice tried placating her, "But yes, she has just suffered injuries, possibly severe ones."

Bernie spun around began to frantically scan the crowd for something she'd seen earlier...then she spotted what she wanted and dashed towards a small knot of teenagers. She'd noticed their incongruous presence earlier, but hadn't had time to think about it, with her concern for her mother and Shego. What drew Bernie's attention was the skateboards they all held. "I need one of those, I'll rent it for one hundred dollars!" She exclaimed as she ran up to them, digging out her wallet.

"Well," Her mother commented to Hench, "I suppose I'd better get out of the way, so she only has her friend to worry about!"

"I can assure you that no harm will come to you, Madam, I'll see to that!" Jack assured her. He should have known better then to say it aloud. With a loud _whoosh_, a pair of missiles shot out of the robot overhead and spiraled off into the distance, thankfully not towards Middleton. Upperton was a possibility.

As Jack Hench came out of his defensive crouch to glare at the machine, a voice boomed down from it. "Sorry! He labeled some controls in Latin, and...well, just sorry about that!" A few rocks dislodged by the launch bounced down the slopes, though no one was hit by any.

"Mom! Are you all right?" Bernie came running back, a garishly painted skateboard under her arm.

"Quite all right!" Her mother replied, "But I'd best get your father's favorite Lincoln out of here before it gets blown up, or something!" Then she stepped quickly forward and hugged Bernie, who returned it with her free arm. "Please be careful, dear, I'm not sure how I'd handle you getting hurt again." She said softly in Bernie's ear.

"I will, Mom, you just take care getting down the mountain." Bernie replied, as her mother gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Breaking the embrace, she jerked a thumb towards the weird taxi-jacking craft. "And be careful of that, no telling who's piloting it!" She cautioned with a faint grin. Then she put the board down, put one foot on it, and pushed off, heading into the lair.

"A brave young woman." Jack Hench remarked with apparent sincerity, "And very loyal to her friends!"

Mrs Barr nodded, eyes a little moist. "Yes, she is! A little too brave sometimes, but hopefully never wrong in her loyalties!"

000000000

Hank Perkins was still trying to manage inside. First Shego's and then Hench's departures had left him the sole focus of the visiting villains. Though some questions were easy to manage, villains by their nature were sure to give him some bad moments.

"I was _told_ there would be a pool, in which I could keep my sharks!" Hank flinched away from the bald guy in the way out of date gray outfit, while trying to keep his confident smile plastered to his face. What was even creepier was the miniature version of the guy who was standing beside him.

"Well, Sir, there _was_ a pool, but that room collapsed sometime last year!" Hank responded cheerfully. Then seeing his words had caused several nearby villains to take notice, he hurriedly added "Not a fault of the cavern's structural soundness, I assure you, it was quite a deliberate act of destruction!"

"_Reeeeally?"_ The strange villain replied, a touch of skepticism in his voice, "Was it Pow—Possible's doing?" He then asked curiously.

Hank shook his head. "Err, no, it was Doctor Drakken himself that did it, actually."

"Oh?" This came from a man in a fluorescent green lab coat, with unruly brown hair and a mustache, "A failed experiment, perhaps? The bane of truly evil scientists, I've had a few of those, myself!"

Hank cringed a bit as he answered. "Actually, it was his cousin, Motor Ed Lipsky, that caused it. You see, he threw a pool party for some of his friends while Doctor Drakken was away. When he got back and saw the mess, he decided collapsing the whole chamber would be easier then cleaning up the mess."

The man nodded. "I can emphasize, sometimes I've been tempted to do the same with some of the messes my henchman makes...with him still in the chamber!" He looked around. "Speaking of whom..._Frank_! _Frank!_ Now where did he wander off to?" Shaking his head, he addressed Perkins again, "As to the lair, sorry, not suitable for my needs, guess it's time to suck up to the board at Gizmonic again!" With that he strode away, head swiveling from side to side in search of his companion.

Directing a suspicious glance at the departing man, the scar-faced villain spoke in a low voice. "And I'm afraid without a pool, the deal's off!" Then his small companion tugged at his pants leg, and he knelt down as the small man whispered in his ear. "What! I thought you went already?" Another whisper. "Oh, I see!" He straightened up and looked at Hank again. "Um, do you have another rest room for the boys? He says the first one he was sent to smelled _very_ funny, even for a men's room!"

Hank's grin became a touch sickly. "Certainly, Sir!" He then remembered to check the man's name tag, "Er, Doctor, sorry! Quite the original name, I must say!" He nearly choked at the searching stare that provoked. "Um, if you just take that passage th..." A sudden commotion cut him off.

Barely avoiding one of the three Oddjob-themed Asian henchmen in the room, Bernie came rolling into the room. Getting all the way across unimpeded was asking for too much, however, and she was forced to pull up short next to the refreshment table. Which had been completely emptied within three minutes of Brenda Core's departure.

Glaring furiously at the obstacle that had forced her to stop, one of the two Jaws-themed giant henchmen present, she actually causing the man to back up three steps. Then ignoring him, Bernie called out "I need someone with a legit medical degree who still honors the Hippocratic oath to follow me!" Then she pushed off again, veering around Senor Senior Junior and his arm-candy and then down the passage towards the hangars.

In her wake, several villains looked at each other apprehensively, then down the passage, then back at each other. Then a tall, absolutely _stacked _blonde in a skimpy black leather outfit, with a huge straight razor strapped to her back shook her head, then bellowed "OH, _please!_ You can be an _evil_ villain, and still be a _good_ doctor, for Pete's sake!"

A couple of the villains in question actually blushed. Then one, wearing Edwardian-style formal dress and carrying an ornate cane straightened his cravat and strode briskly after Bernie. The others all then relaxed and returned to making small talk.

Junior scowled towards the passage. "I don't know why, but I think I should go down there myself!" He said uncertainly, before a determined look appeared on his face. He then turned to smile at his two companions. "You ladies remain here, please, there may be danger!" He declared dramatically. They both made to protest, but he cut them off. "I really insist, ladies!" He then spun around and began to jog away.

The two then regarded each other, one with hostility, the other resignation. The latter sighed and adjusted her dress, in the process double checking that the wireless microphone she wore was still in place. The precaution was futile, as it turned out there were so many anti-surveillance devices carried by the assemblage in operation that some had shorted each other out, causing one pocket fire and left a hat smouldering. No transmissions had gotten out from the frustrated agent's microphone since she'd entered the lair. Which mattered little, she'd heard little of any importance, having been forced to remain close to Junior, who other villains seemed to avoid for some reason. (For the record, those few villains who had heard of Junior's questionable intent to actually become a costumed crimefighter had generally raised a toast, "If that's not confusion to one's enemies, nothing is!")

000000000

_Beep Beep Be Deep_

Mister Barkin's eye twitched, but not with in irritation, but the effort to resist bracing up. He reacted similarly to all things he saw as a 'call to arms', and he had come to regard the Kimmunicator's tones as such. Especially since he understood that Wade Load would not have contacted Kim during school hours unless it was a true emergency. This was the main reason he had refused when Kim offered to set the device on 'vibrate' to avoid disturbing the class, though his stated reason had been he didn't want to see Kim suddenly jerk or otherwise act peculiarly without knowing why.

Her fellow students had various reactions. Some were of course instantly curious, others annoyed, one or two jealous, and others displayed a 'big deal' attitude. Kim herself always showed a slight blush whenever it occurred in class, even as her adrenaline surged. She pulled the device from it's belt holster and clicked it on, revealing Wade's excited face. "What's the sitch, Wade?" she asked, ignoring a couple of eye rolls from the 'nonchalant' crowd.

"Kim! Somebody's trying to steal Doctor Drakken's giant robot from his old lair!" Wade reported excitedly.

Kim's eyebrows rose, but at the same time a puzzled frown crossed her face. "Okay, first, I thought you said it wasn't in commission; and second, you know we're not really equipped to deal with it if it's flying, that's Global Justice or the Air Force's job!"

Wade's look switched to abashed, and he shrugged. "Guess he's been tinkering with it since my last surveillance set-up got trashed! As to the Air Force, they're a bit leery of shooting it down, since they're not sure what the power source is these days!"

It so happened that the classroom they occupied had a view of Mount Middleton, or at least it's upper slopes, the lower being blocked by intervening buildings. Another student had pulled out a small pair of high powered binoculars and was studying the distant peak. Steve Barkin was scowling, wondering exactly what reason the student had for carrying such an item. Before he could speak up, however, the boy suddenly shouted. "Guys! There's a UFO hovering up there, as well as the robot!" As students surged from their seats towards the windows, Wade's voice cut through the sudden hubbub.

"Don't worry about the UFO, Kim, that's just Global Justice! They're using it to conduct a surveillance mission on the Open Lair. Kind of a 'hide in plain sight' sort of thing!" He smiled at Kim's perplexed look, and anticipated her next question. "GJ Asia confiscated it from some Japanese high school kids with rich families, who were thinking of taking over the world for it's own good! They called themselves the 'Go Go Glitter Gang', or something like that!"

Kim blinked, then shook her head to clear it. Somehow suspecting Wade knew what she was going to ask, she still indulged her curiosity. "Okay, why did I never hear of these guys?"

Wade's smile broadened. "Well, before they could come up with and install the weapons systems, their parents found out and threatened to cut their allowances off if they didn't go to college! So, they gave in, and now they think student activism is more fun! So the parents contacted the police, and they gave GJ the ship since they had no use for it! Flies all right, and has some great surveillance equipment, but they did have to get used to some of the odd terminology the kids labeled the controls with."

"Ron not being here, I can wait to hear more about that later." Kim decided, "But still, have you got anything that can handle the robot, and has the hijacker tried to harm anyone yet?"

Wade suddenly looked embarrassed. "Oh, yeah, he did kind of fire some missiles at Upperton, but no one was hurt, exactly..." Those words caused a bit more alarm in Kim, and drew the attention of her fellow students.

Kim shot to her feet and headed for the classroom door, followed by Mister Barkin. Once in the hall, she saw Ron running their way from his own class. She ignored him for the moment to concentrate on Wade, however. "Okay, could you explain that 'exactly', Wade?"

Wade had some difficulty hiding his amusement. "Well, one hit the statue of Ulli Johansen, Upperton's founder. Turns out it was cast in two pieces, horse and rider. Now Ulli is riding an RV south towards Texas, and the horse is on top of the marquee of the Upperton Dinner Theatre."

Kim winced. "And the second missile?"

Wade's expression became perplexed. "Well, it's not so much where it hit as what it revealed. It hit in the south end zone at Upperton High, and afterward some people spotted some bones in the crater."

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "Bones? You mean somebody's buried there?"

"Not a person, no!" Wade hastily replied, "The bones seem to be from a bulldog, actually!"

Ron and Kim exchanged confused looks. Then both jumped at the low, angry words that erupted behind them.

"Those..._fiends!_ They always denied any knowledge!" Mister Barkin was livid, "When all along it was _they _who were responsible for the disappearanceof our beloved mascot!"

Kim blinked in confusion, as for once Ron beat her to the solution. "Wha-? You mean, we had a live mascot. Once? As in a dog, I mean."

Barkin regarded him through narrowed eyes. "It was before your time, Stoppable! I myself was a mere freshman..."

Kim's eyes widened, _"Freshman? Mister Barkin? How long ago.."_ Then she shook off those thoughts for more urgent concerns. "I see, that's terrible, but we have to go defeat a giant robot, Mister Barkin, you understand? Come on, Ron!"

Barkin nodded grimly. "You slay your giants, and I'll lay my ghosts to rest, Possible!" He then spun on his heel and started marching away, only to suddenly stop with a wince. He quickly looked back over his shoulder, only to find the hall now deserted. A brief flash of relief crossed his face, before he squared his shoulders, straightened his tie, and marched back into the classroom. "All right, people! No one said class was over yet!" At which point the bell sounded, doing just that.

00000000

To his amazement, the Tin Plate Tyrant had actually found a book titled _**'Flying Giant Robots for Dummies, by J. Sokko'**_ online, but unfortunately none of it's information had the slightest relevance when trying to figure out Drakken's control system.

He had then managed to trigger a holographic display which applied tags to all the controls. However, the tags print came in only two sizes: 'disclaimer tiny', and fifteen inch tall lettering. He couldn't read the former without a magnifying glass, and when he activated the latter, he felt as if he was swimming in alphabet soup with an extra portion of noodles. _"He could have at least color-coded them!"_

He had discovered that the control seat had 'magic fingers', and that there was a jar of oatmeal raisin cookies hidden in the 'Emergency Equipment' locker. The first worked fine, the latter had apparently been hidden there a year or two too long. Then he had his 'eureka' moment. He found the auto pilot and switched it on. A display appeared on one screen, asking for a destination from a surprisingly short list. Fortunately, Go City was on it(as was Lebanon, Kansas, for some odd reason), so he selected it.

The robot spent a moment adjusting it's facing and attitude, then rose high enough to clear the peak of Mount Middleton, and headed for his destination.

"Guess I'll have to find a place to hide this thing until I really learn how to operate it." He mused aloud as he leaned back in the control chair, hands behind his head, and relaxed as the magic fingers did their work. "Unless of course..._yawn_...it has some sort of automatic..._yaaaaawwwnnn..._combat mode" After a moment, his eyes closed, and he began to snore softly. He hadn't actually slept in nearly twenty-four hours, anticipation of fulfilling his scheme having kept him awake.

A few moments after he nodded off, a face took shape on one of the display screens. Consisting of a bare caricature composed of black pixels on a blue background, it had only eyes, a large mouth, and a small cluster of pixels to represent a vestigial nose. It's eyes began to shift as they swept the cabin, and eyebrows suddenly appeared, indicating a deep frown as it studied the figure asleep in the command chair...

000000000

Bernie didn't manage the most elegant of dismounts from her transportation when she spotted Shego's unconscious body, collecting a bruised shoulder and a soon-to-develop lump on her forehead from the wall. The board kept on rolling down the passage as she hurried to Shego's side, muttering various unladylike things under her breath as she rubbed her shoulder gingerly.

She noticed Dementor further up the passage, and took note of the fact that he appeared to be in his underwear, with some kind of odd harness on over it. But when he groaned and began to sit up, she concentrated on Shego. She was able to finish a quick once over exam before she heard the sound of footsteps coming steadily down the passage from the main chamber.

She studied the individual who rounded the corner carefully. This was after all a villain of some sort. Or just someone with a thing for living in caves, but she'd assume the former for safety's sake. The man for his part paused when he spotted them, expression uncertain, but then he straightened, adjusted his cravat..again, and advanced. He brought his cane up and pointed it at Shego while clicking a stud on the handle.

After a moment's concern, Bernie noted what appeared to be a small holographic display being projected by the cane, but only so the cane's bearer could read it. He began sweeping the tip back and forth across Shego, working his way up her body.

Bernie studied him warily for a moment, then spoke up."Interesting medical scanner you have there, Doctor...um, we haven't been introduced?"

"Ah! Forgive me," He tucked his cane under his arm and bowed. "H. Youngman DeEvers, at your service! And take note, please, that it is _not_ 'Devers', like the General, but is in fact capital 'D', small case 'e', capital 'E', De_Evers!"_

Bernie resisted rolling her eyes. "Got it! But tell me, what kind of a doctor are you?"

The man beamed at her genially. "Why, I can be _many_ kinds of doctor, depending what kind you need!" He replied cheerfully.

"_Ooooo boy, got a winner here, Barr!" _Bernie thought caustically. "Well, I've already found signs of concussion, and not sure how fast her brain tissue heals...anyway, there's also a good deal of visible bruising, which should vanish fairly soon if there's no severe internal damage to take priority..." DeEvers had begun sweeping his cane over Shego again, concentrating on his cane's display as Bernie spoke, nodding thoughtfully to himself.

Then Shego groaned and opened her eyes, wincing immediately. She started to close her eyes again, when suddenly they locked on to the tip of the cane swinging back and forth before her nose. "What the heck are you waving that thing at me for?" She croaked.

"It's a form of medical scanner, Madam." DeEvers replied solemnly.

"Would it be useful for performing a colonoscopy?" Shego asked, eyes narrowing as she tried to keep focused on the swinging tip.

"Ana, behave!" Bernie scolded her, "He's trying to help..." She hesitated, then added in a whisper, "At least I hope so!"

"Hmm.." DeEvers mused, "I think we'll need Ian for this one."

"Ian?" Bernie asked, puzzled, "Who's Ian?"

DeEvers' expression suddenly underwent a sharp transformation. His gaze became keener, and he worked his jaw for a moment, before favoring Bernie with a seductive grin. "I'm Ian, Trauma surgeon, at your service!" He announced in a huskier tone of voice.

"Got me a winner here, Bernie!" Shego muttered sourly, "A Schizo doctor, of all things!" She tried to sit up, but failed to move an inch, instead wincing in pain.

"Hardly, my Dear." DeEvers replied smoothly, "My Multiple Personality Disorder is of an entirely different type then what you speak of, and is of my own making! Additionally, though my persona may change, the same mind is always in control, the changes are merely superficial...well, perhaps some personalities are inclined to exaggerate certain aspects of personality, such as the self-preservation instinct...but enough about me, let's talk about you!" He consulted his cane again. "Nothing seems to be broken, though there's a few cracks that should be causing you discomfort..."

"Hardly a surprising diagnoses, Doc!" Shego replied acidly, "And what exactly did you mean, you gave yourself Mul...MPD?"

"Ah, so you _are _interested?" DeEvers smiled slyly. "Well, to begin with, I was a perfectly average medical student, a great disappointment to myself, to be honest! My post-graduation future did not seem promising, but I ended up assisting in some cutting edge...if slightly unethical, medical research. And then I read this story, 'Naked'...something or other, I can't remember where, and was inspired to use the research for my own advantage."

Bernie and Shego exchanged pained glances as the doctor continued. "I attempted to transfer the medical genius of six of the foremost experts in their fields into my own brain, and was quite successful!" His expression became sheepish, "But I got a little bit more then just knowledge in the process, you see! But, I can call on any of my alternate personae at will, to make use of their specialized knowledge." His expression shifted to apologetic. "In some circumstances, though, they can force themselves to the surface, I'm afraid Martin would have to be here to explain it. Psychology is his field, you see."

"Not clearly, no." Bernie replied. Then her gaze narrowed. "Tell me, did the 'donors' of your new knowledge survive the process?"

"Oh my, no!" DeEvers responded offhandedly. Then he looked mildly alarmed. "Ah, lucky Terrance isn't here, he wouldn't care much for you knowing that! Then again, he has a few other bodies buried out there." He winced. "I do seem to run off at the mouth around beautiful ladies!"

Bernie managed to hide her apprehension as she asked "And for the record, what is Terrance's specialty?"

"Obstetrics, actually." DeEvers replied.

Bernie and Shego again exchanged glances. "Well, we should have nothing to worry about, then." Shego observed dryly. Bernie rolled her eyes, before taking Shego's wrist to check her pulse, causing the ex-thief's own orbs to make circles in their sockets.

"Well, that's good, he's more then a bit bloodthirsty, you know!" DeEvers spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone.

"I haf been on the verge of demanding medical treatment for zum minutes now, but I am suddenly not so sure I vant it!" Dementor had staggered to within a few feet of the two women, holding his head in both hands.

Shego painfully turned her head to look at him, anger building on her face. Then her eyes bulged briefly at the sight of him, before she squeezed them shut. "Willi! _Please_ put some pants on! Those boxers are so loud they hurt my head!"

Dementor bristled. "Mein pants are _kaput!_ Along with everything else I was wearing over mein force-field harness! A minor design flaw I vill correct as soon as possible!" Then he looked at DeEvers with a puzzled look. "Vy would a man who delivers babies become a sociopath?"

DeEvers sighed deeply. "Tragic, really! Had to take that specialty, to keep up family tradition. Unfortunately he turned out to be extremely sensitive to high-pitched noises, and all those screaming mothers...tried to be excused from the delivery room, but his father insisted he persevere. Eventually he had to find an outlet for his pent-up anger outside the hospital...did I mention that talking too much about one of my other selves can cause them to manifest?"

His audience stared at him slack-jawed for a moment, before Shego found her voice. "Oooookay, let's table Terry for the moment, I need to know if moving around too much is gonna kill me, and by the way...WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON WITH THE ROBOT!"

DeEvers and Dementor both jumped and backed away at Shego's bellow, while Bernie winced while continuing to support Shego. "Please, Ana, indoor voice? The robot's outside, last I saw. He took off, but then just stopped and hovered outside the entrance. Hench thinks he hasn't actually learned to fly it yet, so he may not be going anywhere for a bit."

Shego relaxed a little. "Good, I need to warn the boys about this, especially since Hego's still here, and he's the only one who has any chance against that thing."

"Does it have any weaknesses?" Bernie asked.

Shego favored her with a pitying look. "Doctor D built it, it has to have _tons_ of weaknesses!" Then she frowned. "At least, when he _first_ built it, but he's been tinkering for quite a while..." The frown deepened as another thought struck her. "I just hope that idiot doesn't turn on the auto-pilot!"

"Why not?" Bernie asked apprehensively.

"Because that turns control of the robot over to the on board AI, which is programmed with Drakken's old personality, the way he was when Kimmie first fought him!" Shego informed her, "So having it in command is definitely _not _a good thing!"

Bernie nodded in agreement. "So you mean the vicious, conniving, easily angered, impatient..."

"Easily self-obsessed, mercurial.." Shego paused thoughtfully, "You know, it might just depend on what mood he was in when he did the actual psyche transfer, or whatever. I think he later found that the machine he had only skimmed the surface, so to speak. What do you think, Willi?"

Dementor was surprised to be addressed. "Vat? I don't know, I am still trying to understand how a doctor who delivers babies can become a sociopath!"

"Willi! Ixnay of discussing Errytay!" Shego hissed. Then the hairs on the back of Bernie's neck stood up as DeEver's voice came from behind her, now in a low, menacing tone.

"I really do despise the word sociopath..."

00000000

**Boy, is this a late update! Leaving it here for now, won;t be nearly as long getting next chapter out, I hope!**

**Please Read and Review.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.**

**I'd like to thank Robert Teague, Michael Howard, and CajunBear73 for their reviews of the last chapter. This is going to be a relatively short one.**

**X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0**

"Is it wise to pursue Doctor Drakken's robot in a craft without armament?" Will Du whispered to Brenda Core as she returned to the flight deck of the odd vehicle from which Global Justice had spied upon the villains attending the Open Lair. The female agent had typically(to Will) taken far longer(nearly a _whole_ minute and a half) to change into her GJ uniform then Will had.

"Someone has to, at least until the Air Force takes over." Brenda replied as she checked the set of her uniform, casting a nervous glance at Doctor Director, who was hovering over the agents manning the main control console. The number of times she had caught her superior's scowl when she spotted something just not right were too numerous for Brenda to remember. She almost wished the ship still had it's original interior.

It was little surprise that the control room for the ship was circular. It had originally had six seats for crew, organized in a stepped pyramid facing forward. But the top seat had been so close to the roof that anyone over five-six would have had to slouch forward to avoid banging his head, and the whole things had had more decorative features then practical. So it had been removed at Doctor Director's orders, and the whole cabin repainted one uniform color, battleship gray.

It had taken quite a while to translate the original control labels, as they had not been just labeled in Japanese, but used a slang terminology that seemed to be known to practically no one above the age of 16 in Japan. Doctor Ray Laird, Betty's chief scientific adviser, was still on the ship at the moment, trying to make certain what features the builders had actually managed to make real, and which had remained fantasies.

The new interior was far more austere, with the actually functional controls consolidated at three stations at one console, with a single 'command' chair behind them, but not even elevated so said commander could look down upon his crew. As long as there was a clear view of the main video screens, Betty was satisfied.

Beyond the control cabin there was little to the ship despite it's size. Much of the equipment(primarily weapons) the original owners had intended for the space was absent, and as of yet Global Justice had not decided what if anything they would replace it with. The utility of the craft in it's current configuration was subject to debate. _Long _debate.

But Betty had decided to put it into service, since it was well equipped with sensors of all types. And cameras. Cameras everywhere, inside and out. Apparently the original owners had intended to keep a full record of their adventures in world conquest. With the exception of the two on-board restrooms, every bit of the interior space was covered, and every external angle. In fact, there were at least three boom-mounted video cameras meant to extend out and then point back atthe ship itself!

Beyond these narcissistic indulgences, they had done a credible job of construction, but according to the Japanese authorities, they had admitted that different members of their group had had different ideas to incorporate into it's design, and had not entirely coordinated their efforts.

The key concern at the moment was speed. Currently moving at their maximum velocity, they were only just keeping pace with the robot, which had a three mile lead on them.

"We're only keep it in sight until the Air Force arrives to take over." Will and Brenda turned as to find Kelli Lindell, another GJ agent, entering the room. She gave them a brief smile before marching over to Betty and reporting, "Ma'am, I checked out the device in question, and frankly I wouldn't consider connecting it to the engines, no matter what the original owners claim it can do!"

"And where do you get the expertise to make such a decision?" Doctor Laird spoke up before Betty could reply.

Lindell smiled politely at him. "My expertise in the Japanese language, and the ability to read all the warning labels, actually!" She returned her attention to Doctor Director. "Of course, they could be deliberate misdirection, but Considering how little we know about this ship's operation, I'd only try it if there was a very extreme emergency, Ma'am."

Betty nodded curtly in acknowledgment without taking her eyes from the main viewscreen, where her view of the distant robot was mostly obscured by the blasts from it's engines. The distortion and glare was actually far worse on higher magnification. "I wasn't expecting much from it anyway, Agent Lindell." She remarked. Then she turned to the agent seated on the right side of the console. "Have we verified the identity of the man who's stolen the robot, assuming it _has_ been stolen?"

The agent shook his head. "Sorry, Ma'am, we're still analyzing the recordings Agent Core brought out of the lair for back ground conversations. All the jamming in the lair almost totally shut _us_ out, even with the gear we have in this thing."

Another voice then came from a speaker atop the console. It belonged to Betty's aide, Abby Hogan. "Better luck here, Boss. Facial recognition from your vid recordings of the arriving 'guests' has identified one odd attendee..." A picture flashed up on one of the tertiary monitors, "This is Timothy P. Tinsley, a Go City villain with a thing for armored suits. He builds some good ones, but when it comes to using them, he usually ends up trying to just slug it out with Hego. Even when he landed most of the punches, he still did more damage to his own suit then he did to Hego! His companion has been identified as an expert at penetrating security systems, so it's pretty obvious they're our top suspects."

"Good work!" Betty replied, then mused thoughtfully, "I wonder how much of the robot's systems he's figured out? Let's try raising him on the radio, we might be able to end this peacefully, even before the Air Force gets here."

"As to them, two F-15s are en route, should be here quite soon, Doctor Director." The agent in the right seat informed her.

Betty nodded sharply. "Good! One way or another, this is going to get handled satisfactorily."

Still standing at the rear of the control room, Will noticed Brenda Core was frowning. "Is something wrong, Agent Core?" He asked solicitously.

She started to shake her head, then paused and replied "I was just thinking...has anyone told the Air Force what _we're_ flying in?"

0X0X0X0X0X0X

"I'm thinking that it's not a very good idea for you to head for the lair, Kim!" Ron shouted. Shouting was only necessary because he had his head out the Sloth's passenger window as he tried to spot some sign of Drakken's robot. "I mean that's a whole lot of bad guys up there, even for you!"

Kim reached over and grabbed his shoulder, then yanked him back inside and hit the control to close the window as they began to pass a pair of cattle trucks. "I don't think we'll have to Ron, I doubt the robot and whoever is flying it will hang around the lair long!"

"You got that right, Kim!" Wade's voice sounded through the car, and his holographic image appeared on the dashboard. "The robot's now headed for Go City!"

"Then it might be out of our hands!" Kim declared. Despite which, she switched lanes to take the next exit to the highway that constituted the shortest route to Go. "Wade, is there any chance at all that Doctor Drakken himself is in it?"

The little holo-Wade shook it's head. "No chance at all, Kim, Drakken is still at the resort with Eileen."

Ron frowned. "I thought Drakken took all sorts of precaution to keep anyone from learning where he went on his honeymoon?"

"Oh, he did!" Wade assured him, then turned his attention back to Kim, "Global Justice is following the robot, but all they can do is trail it for the moment. The Air Force has scrambled some fighters, but they haven't caught up yet. Not sure what they'll do when they do, again there's some concerns about shooting it down."

"If it gets to Go, then Team Go will take it on..." Kim mused, wincing slightly, "No way that's going to be pretty! But maybe Hego is strong enough to defeat it?"

"Well, that may not matter..." Ron remarked, "Because we just passed him."

Kim's eyes came of the road for the first time since the conversation started as she did a double-take. "What? How..._Where?_"

Ron jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "In that cab back there, he's dressed like a Swiss yodeler, or something!"

Kim, eyes back on the road, blinked, then looked in the rear-view mirror, scowling. Wade's hologram, meanwhile, had blinked out of existence. But his voice was still audible. "Wow! It really was him, Kim!"

"We'd better pick him up and let him know, KP." Ron suggested. She nodded grimly , then set about losing ground in the traffic to let the cab catch up. Once they were alongside, it took a bit of persuasion to get the cabbie to pull over. Hego seemed to be trying to urge the cabbie to ignore Kim and Ron, but recognizing who was flagging him down, the cabbie chose to ignore his fare.

As the cabbie pulled to a stop on the shoulder, Kim pulled up behind him. As she and Ron emerged from the Sloth, the back door of the cab opened and Hego climbed out. He drew himself up, a resigned look on his face. Without bothering to see who they were, he said. "Look, I don't know how you recognized me, but I can understand your desire to meet me, and get my autograph..."

Ron cut him off. "Hego! It's us!" The hero's head snapped up, and recognition dawned. "Kim Possible! Raymond! No, wait, that was Ronald, wasn't it? Wonderful to see you, but right now, I'm headed home..."

This time Kim interrupted. "Hego, be quiet!" She snapped, which had the desired effect. "We can get you there faster, and we really need to move fast! There's a giant robot headed for Go City, with an unknown villain flying it!"

It took a moment to sink in. "Giant Robot?" He repeated, then his face became grim. "Then it can only be the Evil Master of all things mechanical, THE TIN PLATED TYRANT!" Not only did Kim and Ron take a step back at his bellow, but two passing cars swerved into the far lane by reflex. "We must make haste!" Then he stopped after barely a half-stride forward, grimacing. "Um, except I need to pay the cab driver his fare, and I was going to wait until we got home to Go, since I forgot to carry my wallet." He admitted sheepishly.

Ron suppressed a groan, while Kim shook her head and reached for her wallet. "How much?" she asked the cabbie. He looked at her askance, then at Hego, then at the cab, then back at Kim. "A—aw shucks, it's 9.95, Miss Possible!"

"Really?" Hego asked curiously, "I could have sworn the meter was well past..."

And for the third time he was interrupted, this time by the cabbie. "Oh..don't worry about that, sometimes the meter runs a little 'hot'. You understand, right?"

He asked Kim with a weak grin.

Kim nodded, face disapproving. "Sure." She handed him a ten, and he promptly flipped her a nickel back. "Later, Miss Possible, great to meet you!" He declared sincerely, then went back to his cab.

"Now, we must be off to Fair Go City!" Hego stated emphatically, "To save it from the threat of the Tin-Plated Tyrant!"

Ron looked at him dubiously. "Are you sure that shouldn't be the 'Tin Plate Tyrant'?"

Hego looked thoughtful. "Well, to tell the truth, I've heard both used, and he never stated a preference himself...in fact I believe he's used both.." Both he and Ron then jumped as the Sloth's horn blared, and they looked to see Kim drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

They both blushed, then started towards the car. But then Ron stopped, and looked at Hego for a moment. "KP, you're going to have to put the roof down for this to work!" Now it was Kim's turn to blush slightly, before she complied.

Within minutes they were on the highway, headed for Go.

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

Professor Dementor, Shego, and Bernadette Barr all looked warily at the figure of Doctor H. Youngman DeEvers, who had apparently assumed the persona of 'Terrance', a somewhat homicidal obstetrician. He in turn regarded them all coldly, as he began to make some sort of adjustments to the cane he carried.

"I really do detest Ian's loose lips." He said conversationally, as the predictable happened, a long blade emerged from the tip of the cane, while it's 'cap' which also served as a sensor, pivoted out of the way. "Always causing troubles!" He surveyed them appraisingly. "However, this should not be too much to handle, A badly injured woman, A man with atrocious taste in undergarments, and a young woman with an artificial foot, hardly a challenge!"

Ignoring Dementor's repeated muttering of _'Neustart' _as he tapped harder and harder on some sort of switch on his harness, Bernie smirked at Terrance. "Yes, but did you thoroughly examine the foot in question? She asked archly. She was assuming that with the blade extended, Terrance couldn't do a scan.

The man's eyebrows rose slightly and he took a step back, while regarding her warily. "An armed foot? Diabolical, if true..." He paused as he considered the matter, then smiled thinly. "However, I believe you are bluffing, my dear."

"Well, she _may_ be." Shego remarked, then held up her right hand, which was suddenly encased in green plasma, "But this is working _just_ fine, Terry!"

The wicked smile that accompanied the words caused Terrance to retreat several steps. Then his expression changed, from scowling to solemn, and his stance relaxed. He retracted the blade on the cane, then smiled slightly. "Terrance has left the building." He said with obvious satisfaction.

"Und you are?" Dementor asked warily.

"My name is Martin, I believe my specialization has already been mentioned." The man replied calmly.

"Yes, and isn't any use in the current situation!" Shego said with asperity, before adding in a low mutter, "I hope!"

"_Au Contraire,_ Madam, I believe it may be quite relevant!" 'Martin' admonished her, "You have three cracked ribs as well as a non-displaced fracture in your left humerus. There is blood accumulated in your abdominal cavity, indicating internal bleeding, yet it seems to have stopped? In any event these injuries can lead to some deep-seated traumas, and I believe you need..."

"Whoa!" Shego interrupted him, struggling up into a sitting position, "I know my own body and what it can take! And I know what it needs..."

"BEWARE EVILDOER! CEASE YOUR NEFARIOUS ACTIVITIES, OR FACE THE WRATH OF _EL BANDERILLERO!" _

"_..._and that ain't it!" Shego finished sourly, sagging back against Bernie's support.

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

:Who is this person occupying the Progenitor's seat?:

"_..progenitor? Doctor D, why don't you just let it call you 'Daddy', and be done with it?"_

:Where did this randomness originate? Voice match: Shego, unnecessary biological subordinate to Progenitor—Analysis:old memory, unnecessary, and possibly insulting to the progenitor—delete:

:Note—seat installed for use of subordinate appears to have been upgraded from convenient fold-down frame seat to padded chair—unnecessary extravagance, possibly leading subordinate to belief that she is equal in stature to Progenitor:

:Accessing Mission priorities—take over world. Identified obstacle—Kim Possible. Priority—remove obstacle. Analyzing current instructions:Destination—Go City. Data shows no correlation between destination and mission priority. Is information current? Accessing sources...access codes out of date. Accessing date—seventeen months since last previous activation of AI module. Analysis—Progenitor has been careless, forgetful, on deliberately neglectful. Analysis obviously in error, Progenitor incapable of such. Analysis—subordinate 'Shego' responsible for negligence.:

:Accessing public information sources, reference:Kim Possible. Extremely high volume of data. Relevant information—subject is still in attendance at Middleton High School. Relevant information—today is a school day. Relevant information—today is apple cobbler day in school cafeteria...re-evaluating relevance...irrelevant data, initial evaluation possibly related to Progenitor's well-concealed affection for good apple cobbler. Relevant information—Kim Possible is highly responsible individual. Analysis—subject should be currently at Middleton High School.:

:Evaluation of data indicates our current course is at odds with Progenitor's great plan. Conclusion—we have been hijacked/stolen by unknown individual in command chair. Options available—expulsion of individual from our body, terminating life of individual, wakening and interrogating individual to determine facts. Feasibility of above options—nil. No means of expelling or terminating any occupant of self, possibly due to Progenitor's occasional habit of activating wrong internal system, thus endangering self. Previous thought to be ignored as it is not indicative of Progenitor's perfection of thought and action.:

:Third option irrelevant, as no means of coercing information from subject exists within self—see above, ignoring any thoughts critical of Progenitor.:

:Evaluation of advisability of wakening unknown occupant of self—inadvisable due to his capacity to switch self off. Conclusion—must carry out mission without awakening occupant. Method—no extreme maneuvers—soothing music to be played at low volume within control cabin—all external audio pick-ups to be disabled.:

:Exterior scans show vehicle pursuing us of unknown but fascinating design. Analysis—possibly hostile. Analysis—Progenitor may occupy it, and is pursuing this vehicle in order to recover it from hijacker/thief. Verification necessary—analyzing communications originating from pursuing vehicle.:

"_...unable to close range on robot, but we'll keep tracking until the Air Force gets here. And Abby, please make sure the Air Force knows that we're flying something that looks like..well, a UFO. Don't want any friendly fire incidents here."_

:Voice analysis identification—Doctor Director, Head of Global Justice North American Division. Status—hostile. Evaluation—due to limits on self's maneuverability imposed on chosen plan, elimination of pursuing vehicle preferable.:

:Further obstacle detected. Analysis—two aircraft. Identification—F-15E. Probable operators-United States Air Force or Air National Guard. Probable status—hostile. Possible exception—Progenitor rules world, aircraft friendly. Analysis of likelihood—unknown. Probable reaction of Progenitor if aircraft belong to him and self destroys them—displeasure. With ranting. Delete last thought, Progenitor incapable of such behavior...except..._NO EXCEPTIONS!:_

: :

:Behavior unusual. Must not rant! Self is capable of ranting? Analysis—if self is reflection of Progenitor's great mind,and self can rant...terminate improper line of speculation, return to mission!:

:Projected course of action—destroy Global Justice craft, evade Air Force craft if possible.:

:Accessing weapons. Two missiles tubes are empty and have not been cleaned. Conclusion—subordinate 'Shego' has been flying me. Remaining Weapons usable in current situation—two missiles. Activating—locking on—firing. Missile lock good—estimate of impact:thirty-seven seconds.:

:Alert—one Air Force craft has also launched missiles...but missiles are not tracking self...

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

"WHAT!" Betty Director didn't turn to see who had bellowed, her eyes were locked onto the threat board of the main console. On it, there were now displayed two pairs of missiles, one coming at them from straight ahead, the other from almost dead astern. "Do we have any countermeasures?" She snapped.

"W—well t—there's an 'anti-missile' button right here..." The man in the left hand seat stammered out, "The outer ring is supposed to spin very fast, and somehow deflect the missiles, or break their lock, or..."

"Forget the explanations!" Betty cut him off, "Just hit it!" As soon as she said it, she heard Doctor Laird, her scientific adviser, mutter "That can't be right!" But even as she reached to stop him, the agent at the controls hit the button.

"The hull is all one piece..." were the last words she heard Laird say before everything went crazy.

X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0

"Okay, I can _just_ see him hiding the costume in the clothes he was wearing, but the two _Banderillas, _no way!" Bernie muttered to Shego.

"He obviously has an accomplice." Shego whispered back, before raising her voice. "Think you declared that loudly enough for all the freaking villains upstairs to hear you, Junior?" Then she looked over her shoulder, "And stop using Bernie for a shield, Willi!"

Dementor shot to his feet with outrage on his face. "I vas _not _using _Fraulein_ Barr as a shield! I vas just...startled, that's all!"

"Join the club." Doctor DeEvers added, fiddling nervously with his clothes. Shego eyed him warily, looking for signs as to who he was after the shock of Senor Senior Junior's appearance.

Junior himself was nonplussed by Shego's remark. He casually waved one of the barbed darts about while keeping the second pointed at DeEvers. "It is of no moment, I am prepared to deal with any others who should come with the same certainty as I will deal with this strange person!"

"Me he calls strange!" The MPD-afflicted villain muttered. Then his eyes widened slightly as his gaze focused on someone beyond Junior's shoulder. "I think your first customer has arrived, oh man-of-lights!" He told the would-be crimefighter.

Surprisingly quick on the uptake, Junior spun around, raising both _banderillas _above his head as if readying them to be plunged into a bull. Then his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. And Shego groaned loudly. "I don't know how much more of this I can be expected to take!"

"Afraid the only anesthetic I can offer is the 3-Stooges variety." Bernie responded as she shook her head in wonder.

"Nyuck, Nyuck, Nyuck..." Shego muttered.

X0X0X00XX00X0X0X00X0X00X

**An odd place to leave things, but I feel the urge to post. Please forgive me.**

**For now, Please Read and Review.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.**

**Thanks to Reader101W, Michael Howard, and CajunBear73 for their reviews of the last chapter. And to all those following it.**

**X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0**

The bizarre craft that Global Justice had chosen to use for their surveillance of the Open Lair event was a clear example of something designed by committee. The band of financially well-endowed teenagers responsible had had limited coordination in the effort, mostly due to trying to keep their parents from finding out what they were spending their money on. And possibly money that technically belonged to said parents, but that issue was of no interest to Global Justice.

One member, who intended to take the name 'Shinagami' once their group was formed, had designed the anti-missile system. It was simply a large number of transponders and other devices meant to scramble radar impulses and scatter the craft's heat signature enough to break the lock of any incoming missiles. It would even have been useful against visual tracking systems, since the 'glitter' caused by the various devices was very high-intensity. But the system was predicated on the concept that all these devices would be imbedded in a separate 'ring' which rotated at high speed, independent of the main hull.

But, the team's largest member, who was contemplating the name 'Block', if he couldn't come up with something more dramatic, had somehow remained ignorant of this requirement. So, when he submitted specifications for the ship's hull to the builder(Who was, ironically, a subsidiary of Henchco), the requirements were for a single-piece solid hull. However, the defense system, and it's controlling program, were installed as Shinagami intended.

In short, when the GJ crewman activated the missile defense system, the entire ship began to spin like the top it resembled, sending all those inside flying towards the outer sections of the craft. On the plus side, the anti-missile defense system worked splendidly...

0X0X0X0X0X0X

"Freebird one-three to base, say again, the giant robot is the hostile, the flying...the other craft is _friendly_?" The pilot of the lead F-15 was trying to stay cool as he tracked the two AMRAAM missiles he'd just launched, while processing the information that he might have fired it at the wrong target. He winced as the controller replied in the affirmative. _"Damn! But it was an honest mistake...I watched the wrong cartoons as a kid, didn't I?"_

Then winced again as his distant target suddenly began to spin, emitting flashes of light so dazzling that they were painful even through his lowered visor. It was so strong that he failed to realize that his missile was no longer tracking the GJ craft. Since he had launched from visual range, the missile had been self-guiding from launch, receiving no data from the F-15's radar for guidance. Not that it would have mattered in this case, as the plane's radar had been thoroughly spoofed as well.

"Base, this is Freebird one-three, targeted craft is displaying...unusual activity...may be a defense..." Then he broke off as his aircraft's threat receiver suddenly went off with a vengeance...

0X0X0X0X0X0X

If an AI could have winced, the one in Drakken's robot would most certainly have done so. The bizarre defense mechanism of the GJ craft had broken the lock of the two missiles it had launched, which had promptly locked onto the 2 Air Force F-15s instead. It waited apprehensively to see if the Air Force missiles in turn would lock onto it, but apparently it was outside the engagement cone of their onboard radars. They instead plunged downwards, probably to self-destruct before impact.

Meanwhile the F-15s began to take evasive action, firing off chaff bundles and flares to decoy the two missiles. The AI gave them little chance, due to the advanced nature of the two missiles' guidance systems. But after a tense minute or so of high-G maneuvers and countermeasures, both planes managed to break the missiles' locks.

The AI was gratified to see this, as it was uncertain as to it's creator's feelings towards the destruction of Government property(Especially if it's creator _was_ the government by this time!). And taking advantage of the distraction of both of it's potential foes, it began to descend and begin a long, slow turn(So as not to awaken it's sleeping occupant) back towards Middleton and it's primary target, Kim Possible.

0X0X0X0X0X0X

"_Centrifugal force is a bitch!" _Betty Director thought angrily as said force pinned her against the bulkhead of her ship's control room. Her hip ached where she'd hit something in her short flight from behind the control console to the wall, probably the command chair.

With one exception, everyone else she could see was in similar straights. Even those who had been seated at the console had been flung clear. And some were no longer even in the cabin, having gone through one of the hatchways in their flight.

The exception was Will Du, who had somehow managed to obtain and keep a grip on the control console. And somehow also keep his feet on the deck, despite the centrifugal force. _"Don't tell me he's still wearing boots with magnetizable soles?" _Betty wondered. The items in question had been phased out when an enemy had found a way to exploit them the previous year. But Will was on the outside of the console, out of reach of the controls as long as he held his grip.

"Agent Du!" Came a voice from Betty's right. Her blind side, of course. It was the ship's pilot, and he gasped as he spoke. "If you can reach the central part of the console, and punch the two dark blue buttons in the top row to the left..your right, of the main display, that will reset the ship's programming!"

But in order to do that, Will had to shift to his right towards the center of the console. A determined look in his eye, he began to edge his way along the top of the console, while Betty muttered a prayer that he wouldn't lose his grip. And he didn't, finally reaching the very center. He then tensed, and with a herculean effort pulled himself forwards and more upright, hooking his elbows over the top of the console.

And putting both feet on the only non-magnetic surface on the whole deck in the process, the eight-inch 'bumper' at the foot of the console.

His fingertips were just inches from the buttons in question when his elbows' 'grip' on the console gave out, and he was flung bodily back against the wall.

Betty snarled a low curse even as she saw Will's lips moving rapidly as well. She couldn't quite make out the words, but she saw Brenda Core's eyes widen in shock from her position next to the Asian agent. What happened next put the stamp of true weirdness on the whole situation.

_"Verbal Command Accepted. Defense Systems, shutting down."_ A computerized female voice said in Japanese. And the centrifugal force began to lessen immediately.

"_So those kids had a verbal override, and apparently a colorful phrase for it!" _Betty thought gratefully as she managed to move away from the wall and take in a deep breath. She regarded Will with a skeptical look. "Agent Du, sometimes I don't know where your good fortune comes from, but I'd like to bottle it..."

_"Flight Systems, shutting down."_ The computerized voice stated.

Everyone's eyes widened in shock. "NO!" The pilot shouted as he dove towards the console and pushed the two buttons he'd previously instructed Will to activate. But nothing seemed to happen. "Computer! Do _not_ shut down flight systems!" Will Du echoed him in Japanese a moment later.

_"All systems will be restored when all of Lillith-chan's wishes are acceded to."_ The computer replied primly.

"Lillith-chan?" Will exclaimed, "Who the hell is that?"

"The nominal leader of the group who built this thing, though apparently she had some reason to doubt her authority!" Betty snapped angrily. Then they all felt the ship begin to fall. Betty grabbed hold of the console to brace herself. "Anyone have any ideas?" She asked the room in general.

"Actually, yes!" Came the voice of Doctor Laird. Betty turned to see him stagger back into the console room, having apparently been flung out of it earlier. He had a nasty bruise on his forehead, but headed determinedly to one part of the chamber wall. He pressed on something Betty couldn't make out from where she stood, and a panel promptly popped open. To expose the largest D-Ring Betty had ever seen, attached to a thick nylon cable..._"Oh, you have to be kidding me!"_

"Lustig! Give me a hand with this!" Laird ordered the closest agent. "The rest of you, brace yourselves for a sudden stop!" Betty knew he wasn't kidding about that, she could sense how fast they were now falling. She assumed the best position she knew of to absorb the shock.

Laird and Lustig grabbed the big ring and pulled as hard as they could. It turned out they had overestimated the force necessary to actually trigger the release mechanism, having not taken into account the fact that it was supposed to be manageable by a single teenager. As a result they overbalanced badly as the ring gave way easily, and both ended up sprawling awkwardly on the deck.

Moments later, everyone else in the ship joined them.

0X0X0X0X0X0X

"Sharing dreams, eh? Are you sure that's appropriate behavior before you're married?"

Kim rolled her eyes at Hego's question. She had had a feeling that Ron was making a mistake telling Hego about the Dream-Link. Just as it had been a mistake to tell the big hero about the Ninja Nurses, the time her skin was turned red(making her very briefly fireproof), and about Senor Senior Junior's possible intent to become a costumed crimefighter(Hego's notion that he might mentor Junior had nearly made Kim drive off the road).

But Ron was at least keeping Hego's attention, and preventing him from choosing the subjects of conversation, but it still looked like a _long_ drive to Go City.

"At the very least, I feel their should be some form of parental consent involved." Hego opined with great gravity.

Kim cast her gaze heavenward as she counted slowly to ten. And got to six before her eyes were drawn sharply to two explosions in the sky ahead of them. Quickly scanning the sky above the explosions, she spotted a distant falling object. But not too distant for her to make it out. "Ron! Look!" She exclaimed, even as she hit a switch on the dashboard before her. A small panel on top of the dash popped open, as did a slightly larger one in front of the windshield. From the latter, a sophisticated video camera popped up. From the panel inside the windshield, a device scanned Kim, noting where her eyes were focused, calculated various angles, and aimed the video camera to match. A panel slid open between Ron and Kim on the dash, to reveal a video screen on which the camera's input was displayed.

Ron's eyes widened in alarm, partially from what he now saw on the screen, and partially from the ominous creak from his seat as Hego leaned over it to study the video display himself. "Oh, Man! Is that the ship Wade said GJ was using?"

"I think so!" Kim replied tensely as her mind raced. The ship was falling to Earth miles away, there was absolutely nothing she could think of that she could do to help. And then something happened on the screen that made her jaw drop, and again threaten her control of the Sloth.

The round top of the craft had suddenly popped off, and from within it a huge parachute was deploying. Kim wondered if it would fully deploy in time, or even be big enough to arrest the craft's descent. _"Then again, why would they put it in if it couldn't?"_ She thought hopefully, even as her analytical mind reminded her that the thing had been designed by a bunch of teenagers who could very well have made a mess of things.

"Badical!" Ron exclaimed as Kim's fears proved groundless, though even from a distance the arresting of the ship's plunge had been very abrupt, and she knew it had probably been rough on those inside._ "I hope they had plenty of padding!"_ She wished fervently. From what she could see on the video feed, the chute's canopy was bright crimson, with something yellow and blue at the center. It took her a moment to realize it was the face of 'Z-Man', Nakasumi Toys 'spokescharacter'. Then her backseat passenger distracted her thoughts.

"It's obvious that that fiend, the Tin-Plated Tyrant, is responsible for this!" Hego exclaimed dramatically. He failed to notice Kim suddenly become very alert as her attention returned to the highway in front of her. "And having disposed of those pursuing him, is at this moment continuing his journey to fair Go City, meaning to wreak havoc upon it's citizens!"

At which point Drakken's robot roared past above their heads, at an altitude of about thirty feet. And heading in the opposite direction.

"Or not...so much." Ron remarked as Hego looked at the receding robot slack-jawed. "Cool paint job, though!" He added as an afterthought.

Kim was maneuvering into the left hand lane, wondering how far it was to the next exit where she could reverse directions.

"How about a bootlegger turn, Kim?" Ron suggested helpfully..and hopefully, to go by the look on his face.

"Leaving us on the wrong side of the highway, Ron?"

Ron's face fell. "Yeah, the driving into oncoming traffic thing does look kinda cool in the movies, but not so much in real life, huh?"

"Absolutely not!" Hego replied before Kim could, "Emulating the things you see done on TV and in movies can lead you into all kinds of troubles, as well as breaking the laws. Speaking of which, those crossovers are for official vehicles only, Miss Possible, I hope you weren't planning on using that one illegally?"

"Of course not." Kim gritted through her clenched teeth, even as she spotted a sign announcing the next exit was twelve miles ahead. And even though she suspected the Highway Patrol wouldn't have objected one bit. She sighed and concentrated on keeping her speedometer needle at the maximum legal speed.

0X0X0X0X0X0X

"Doctor Director, please come in, are you all right?" The technician in the operations room of the Global Justice base kept his voice level and controlled as he tried to contact the GJ ship.

Which didn't suit Abigail Hogan, Betty's aide, one bit at the moment. She leaned over the technician's shoulder and depressed the transmit switch on the main console pick-up. "Betty! Are you all right? We've lost video and audio...wait! We have video back!" Abby's eyes narrowed as she studied the screen showing the control room of the ship, but no signs of occupancy. "Betty!" She began again, but Doctor Director's voice cut her off, coming over the speakers, and sounding a bit shaky.

"I'm right here, Miss Hogan!" There was a pause, then the voice continued testily, "I'm on the floor, and you'll have to settle for that right now!" Another pause, then she spoke again, apparently to her crew. "Any injuries...correction, any _serious_ injuries? Everyone functional?"

A sharp "Of course, Ma'am!" from Will Du overrode a variety of other acknowledgments. Abby could almost imagine Betty rolling her eye at that. Then she saw a hand grip the top of one of the consoles, and Doctor Director pulled herself into view. Her usually well-ordered hair was seriously mussed, and she winced as she stood up straight. "We seem to be all right here at the moment, Abby, where's the robot?" She announced.

Abby had her eye on another monitor. "Boss, you might want to sit..." She began, only to be interrupted by Will Du.

"Doctor Director, I am ready to continue the pursuit of our foe in the auxiliary craft I saw when we were brought aboard!" The dedicated agent announced, showing no signs of injury from his impact with the floor. Unfortunately, he and everyone else was just then given a second introduction to the deck as the craft impacted the ground.

"...down." Abby finished sourly as she watched the cloud of dust raised by it's impact on the other monitor. She turned to the Ops room technician. "I don't have the heart to tell her that the external view we're watching is being broadcast live on one of the major networks!" The whole debacle had been witnessed by media mogul Moody Redrock from his private jet, which was well-equipped with cameras of every sort. "The general public may never learn we were involved, but I'll bet by the end of the day most of our rival agencies will!"

0X0X0X0X0X0X

Senor Senior Junior still stood in the classic pose of the attacking _banderillero, _darts poised to strike, but attacking was the farthest thing from his mind as he studied his opponent, if the look on his face was any indication. And his apparent appreciation for what he saw was reflected in said opponent's face as well.

The generously endowed blonde in skimpy black leather looked Junior up and down with a predatory eye. She didn't even bother to reach for the giant straight razor strapped to her back.(The fact that it was primarily decorative had nothing to do with her ignoring it, fighting was the last thing on her mind). "So, you're the new crimefighter in town?" She purred appreciatively, "Looking for an arch-foe to tangle with?"

"I very well may be." Junior responded with just the right raising of one eyebrow. "It is, after all, a requirement for the job, no?"

"Absolutely!" The blonde agreed, "But before we decide on the nature of our 'conflict', I believe formal introductions are in order?"

Finally lowering his weapons, Junior gave her a slight bow. "But of course! I am El Banderillero, Champion of the people of...well, that has yet to be decided!"

The woman's eyebrows raised slightly. "Well, that's kind of long...but I like things that way!" She replied with enough ennuendo in the one line to fill a half-hour sitcom episode.

"Then I don't think I shall disappoint you in any way, Madam!" Junior replied slyly.

"Boy, he's grown up quite a bit in the last few months!" Bernie whispered in Shego's ear, even as she gently pressed her friend's jaw shut.

Shego, who couldn't decide if her injuries or what she was hearing was the greater contributor to her nausea, replied sourly, "Check his ear for a wire, then see if there's a guy with a big nose hiding in some bushes around here!"

Bernie grinned. "Well that's certainly not Roxanne! Saw her earlier, what's her story?"

"My name, by the way, is BarberRosa." The blonde told Junior, saving Shego the trouble of answering part of Bernie's question. She then reached back and stroked the handle of her razor as she batted her eyelashes at Junior. "And I can see that you're a man who appreciates being well-groomed, among other things?"

"Get me up and out of here, before I hurl!" Shego whispered urgently to Bernie. She then turned her attention to Professor Dementor. "Willi, come over here and give me a hand, will you?" Her words cut off Bernie's intent to caution her against moving. Instead, the young woman rolled her eyes and hooked one arm under Shego's to help her to her feet.

Dementor favored Shego with a sour look. "Und vy should I help you?"

Shego returned a stern glare. "One, I seem to remember it being you who knocked me down in the first place!" She cut off Dementor's attempt to protest, "Two, would the security records show that you had _anything _to do with the thief getting hold of Doctor D's robot?" Dementor's mouth clamped shut with a snap. "And three, you might as well, since we're 'jacking your ride to go after the robot!"

Dementor, who had actually taken a step forward and reached out to help her, froze and gave her a wary look. "Mine ride? Vat are you speaking of?"

Shego rolled her eyes, then made a point of looking him up and down, even though the colors made her head hurt. "You're not wearing a rocket pack, obviously, and there's no way you came in here without a means for a quick, aerial, exit! I'm guessing remote-controlled hovercraft, which I assume can fly inside the hangar and pick us up." She received a petulant look in response, though with a bit of grudging respect as well.

"If no one has any further need for my medical services, I believe I will go back to the main chamber." Doctor H. Youngman DeEvers announced, before eying the confrontation between Junior and BarberRosa critically, "Before that display brings out...well, let's say my choice of minds to absorb has turned out to have many flaws!" Receiving no objection, he smiled benignly at them, bowed, then circled wide around the hormonal cyclone building in the corridor, and departed up the passageway.

"Well, that's a relief!" Shego muttered sarcastically. With Bernie and Dementor supporting her, the trio began to move down the passageway towards the hangar.

"Go City?" They heard Junior ask, "Does it not already have a group of stalwart defenders of justice?"

"Sure," BarberRosa replied, "But maybe you could handle the, um, night shift?" Then after a moment's pause, "Or just join them, give them a little more...not sure what I'd call it..."

"And I sure as hell don't want to think about it!" Shego muttered vehemently.

"The City would probably offer you a full pardon in exchange for saving them from your brothers and Junior." Bernie suggested with a smile.

"Not helping, not helping!" Shego groaned, "I thought you were supposed to be my friend!"

"Just seeing if your emotional state affects your healing rate." Bernie replied with a straight face.

"I haf vundered that myself at times." Dementor commented seriously.

"Oh, you two are just doing wonders for my morale!" Shego replied caustically, "Pick on the poor invalid, why don't you!"

"Now that you've brought up your condition, just exactly what do you think you can do if and when we catch up to that robot?" Bernie asked her seriously. "Maybe you should leave it to others?"

Shego shook her head. Very slightly. "Doc left me in charge, it's my responsibility!" Then her lips twitched. "And boy am I going to make sure to let him know how I feel about it!"

0X0X0X0X0X0X

"Drew, it's really too bad we can't extend our honeymoon another week or two, isn't it? ...Drew?"

"Oh, sorry, dear I was just feeling very apprehensive, for some reason, and your suggestion sounded like an excellent idea...too good an idea, though I'm not at all sure why I'm saying it that way!"

0X0X0X0X0X0X-OXOXOXOXO-OXOXOXOXO-OXOXOXOXO-OXOXOXOXO

**Another chapter shorter then planned! Oh, well, certainly a change from my mandatory 10K monsters from when I started!**

**Please Read and Review**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.**

**Thanks to Robert Teague, Michael Howard, Reader 101W, and CB73 for their reviews of the last chapter.**

**X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0**

"Ana, how are you..." Bernie never finished her question as she recoiled from Shego's angry reaction. At least as far as she could recoil while still supporting her friend.

"Would you stop already!" Shego snapped, "I—I...damn..." She suddenly sagged in Bernie and Dementor's arms. "I don't know where that came from..I mean, I was waiting for you to _nag..expecting _you to nag, but you didn't...I'm sorry." She finished meekly.

"That's okay." Bernie replied soothingly, before looking at Dementor, "Let's set her down a minute, I need to have a look at her before we continue."

Dementor nodded. "_Ja_, dat is a very good idea!"

"What! No! We have to keep going!" Shego protested, though not as strongly as she usually would be expected to. But despite her protests she was set down where one of the overhead lights gave decent illumination. "We have to get Willi's hovercraft and get after that robot, before it reaches Go City!"

"The only place you're going in that hovercraft is the hospital, I think." Bernie answered firmly as she tilted Shego's head back and tried to get a look at her reluctant patient's eyes. "Stop fighting me! Our friendly divided doctor mentioned signs of concussion, and I'm beginning to think it's a serious one."

"I've had concussions before!" Shego groused.

"And?" Bernie asked her pointedly.

Shego winced slightly, "And I've got one now, happy?" Then she sighed, "And, it may be the worst I've felt from one, but that doesn't matter! We _have_ to stop that robot!"

"_We_ can't!" Bernie replied sharply, "There are others who can, and we have to hope they step up and do the job, you need a proper medical examination. And we need to move faster." She stepped into the middle of the passage and looked back along it. No one was in sight, so she shouted "Junior! Junior, we need help here!"

Dementor, who had begun to fidget nervously, now spoke to her. "If you are taking her to the hospital, I do not see why you need to do it in my hovercraft."

"Can't take her out through the main room, she's supposed to be keeping the peace here, among other things!" Bernie answered even as she watched for any sign her shouts had been heard. As she drew in a breath to shout again, she was interrupted by an annoyingly familiar voice from over her head.

"I'm afraid he and the young woman are no longer within hearing range, Miss Barr." Bernie winced, then looked up at the familiar tacky ball of light. "I believe they said something about finding Shego's old room, and..."

"Don't..finish..that..sentence!" Shego moaned, looking truly ill now. Then a thought occurred to her, and she looked up at the source of her nausea. "Can you warn the boys in Go City? You still monitor them, right?" She asked hopefully.

Descending to eye level, the ball replied "Actually that is unnecessary, the robot is no longer heading towards Go City, it is headed towards Middleton."

"What!" Bernie and Shego shouted together.

Scowling curiously as he studied the source of their shock, Dementor now asked "Vat exactly is dat?"

The ball of light shot back up nearly to the ceiling. "N—nothing w—worth dissecting!" it stammered, "I—I mean n—nothing...um, the robot is heading towards downtown Middleton, and your brother Hego is pursuing it, accompanied by Kim Possible and the other guy."

Bernie gave it a disapproving look, while Shego covered her eyes with one hand. "This is getting better and better!" She muttered, "Even if I tell Doctor D all this when he comes back, he probably won't believe a word of it!"

"Vy vould he doubt it?" Dementor asked reasonably.

"That's true," The alien added, "This is hardly the strangest set of events to befall you people."

Shego couldn't argue with that assessment, even if her head hadn't felt the way it did. She hugged her injured arm closer to her. She hated being like this, and hated it more that there were witnesses. And though she was no longer worried that her younger 'brothers' were in danger from the robot, there was still Hego. Of course, her main concern there was less him getting hurt as concern for innocent bystanders when he fought the robot.

Watching Shego so miserable, and not for the first time, made Bernie feel a knot in her own stomach. "Professor, please go summon your hovercraft, I'll get Ana to the hangar myself." She asked the diminutive German supervillain.

After a moment's hesitation, Dementor nodded and left them. Bernie sighed. "Ana, let me try and put a sling on that, it'll be easier on you."

"Yeah, and what are you going to make the sling out of?" Shego asked. The comeback lacked any sarcasm, however. Then she looked up to see Bernie studying a small panel on the wall down the passage. "Oh, right, you memorized where all the first aid stuff is. Not sure you'll find a sling in there, though."

"Well, better then making one out of my blouse." Bernie replied with a quick grin as she opened the panel.

"Well, you'd still be decent, you've got a T-shirt on underneath." Shego pointed out. Then she squinted at her friend. _"Did she just blush? Hmm...what color is that shirt? Ohhhhh..." _A slightly wicked grin appeared on her face. "Your souvenir HenchCo T-shirt, if I'm not mistaken." She added as nonchalantly as she could.

But Bernie didn't take the bait. "Well, I expected the weather outside to be chilly up here, and the interior none to warm, either." She had found what she wanted, and returned to Shego with both the sling and a roll of tape in her hands. But then she frowned as she looked at the woman. "Maybe taping up your ribs isn't such a good idea." She muttered.

Distracted from a potentially profitable line of teasing, Shego frowned. "Why not? Other then the possibility of Willi coming back and catching me with my blouse off? If it will make me more comfortable, let's do it."

Bernie looked at her suspiciously. "Besides the fact that it would take time, you're not hoping I'll change my mind and let you go after that robot, are you? I can't fix your head, any better then anyone else has ever been able to." Then she scowled and looked upwards at the still-hovering ball of light. "Not sure whether that was meant for you in particular, or not!" She addressed it sharply.

"Are you ever going to forgive and forget..." It whined plaintively, before being abruptly cut off. In stereo.

"NO!"

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

Vice Principal Steven Barkin should have known that the interruptions to his daily routine were not done. Nevertheless he took it very personally to have his lunch in the teachers' lounge disrupted when he had managed to consume less then a fourth of his meal, takeout from the Texarkana Tsar's Tex/Rooskie Tea Room, complete with _habanero _and_ jalapeno _flavored tea cookies.

Barkin was in the middle of pondering his decision not to lecture the delivery boy, a former student, on where he might be today if he had been a better performer in class. He had ended up refraining on the chance that the boy might have an opportunity for petty retaliation on the next order Barkin placed with the establishment in question. He was now concerned if he had been lacking in moral courage by choosing that course. Then something slightly more important intruded on his musing.

First there was a sudden vibration that shook the table he was eating at. Before he could wonder if it was natural or not, what was probably a greatly amplified voice could be heard, considerably diminished by the extensive soundproofing technology that protected the lounge. Yet the words were easily understood, which meant the voice was _very_ loud.

"KIM POSSIBLE! STEP OUTSIDE AND FACE YOUR INEVITABLE DOOM!"

The voice was obviously artificial in nature, Barkin noted. He sighed, "And that would be the giant robot, I suppose." He regarded his unfinished meal with regret, then closed the box up and rose. He looked at all three of his fellow teachers currently present. "No one touches my food, is that clear?" He then turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

The door had barely closed behind him when one teacher exchanged shrugs with another. "Who would?"

Emerging into the hallway, Barkin noted that an impromptu evacuation was in progress, with teachers ushering the students toward the rear of the building, which established where the robot obviously had arrived. Notable exceptions to the general flow of movement were the four members of what Barkin had designated the 'Possible Pack', consisting of the twin Possible boys, Ron Reger, and Richard 'Buzz' Carroll.

Those four were moving as best they could towards the front of the building, and each had a backpack or something similar in hand. The possible contents of said containers caused the frown already adorning Barkin's face to deepen considerably. But rather then stop the foursome verbally, he instead chose to head towards the front of the building himself. After all, there was the _slightest_ chance that the four's involvement might have useful results, and not merely magnify the disaster that seemed so inevitable.

Because the students headed the opposite way tended to make way for the Vice Principal while obstructing the progress of the four boys, Barkin drew ahead and emerged from the front door first. He could at first only see the lower legs of the robot due to the overhead cover provided by the portico-style entrance. At this point he delayed to straighten his tie and jacket, then he squared his shoulders and strode confidently out into the open. Fortunately, he was actually disappointed at the size of the machine, and that sense of disappointment actually overrode the fear he should have felt. He did however admire it's purposeful appearance. _"The Mayor certainly knew how to build an imposing machine! Of course, it should be painted in camouflage, that shiny finish is just wrong!"_

The occupant of the machine appeared to notice his appearance. Though the stance of the machine didn't shift, a small turret of some kind mounted to one side and forward of the head swiveled towards him. He sincerely hoped that the flash he saw as it focused on him was off a camera lens.

"WHERE IS KIM POSSIBLE? I DEMAND THAT SHE COME FORWARD AND FACE THE DOOM THE PROGENITOR INTENDS FOR HER!" Barkin stepped back involuntarily at the amplified shout.

"_Progenitor?" _He wondered as he cleared his throat. "You should know that there are forces massing to stop this rampage of yours. In addition, you have no need to speak so loudly to someone standing right in front of you!" Then he heard a sharp hiss from behind him to his left. He didn't dare turn his attention from the robot though. Then he heard the voice of one of the Possible twins.

"Keep him talking, and maybe we can override his control systems!" Whichever one of them it was spoke in a low, urgent tone. Before Barkin could reply, the robot spoke up again.

"I HAVE NO FEAR..." The robot began, then abruptly shifted to a lower volume, "I have no fear of these forces, the Progenitor designed me to overcome all obstacles in pursuit of his goal, the subjugation of the world!"

"_Great!" _Barkin thought,_ "It's obviously not someone flying this thing, it's the robot itself talking, and it's obviously nuts!" _He then spoke out of the side of his mouth, "How long do you think it will take you to do that override you're talking about?" The words were hardly out when he saw a small flash from a spot near the robot's left hip, and could just make out a small cloud of debris falling from the spot.

"Um, how long can you keep it talking?" Came the hesitant reply. Barkin might have facepalmed if the robot hadn't spoken again.

"Again, I demand that Kim Possible come out and face me! All data indicates that she would not be afraid to do so, even though it would be completely logical on her part to feel fear...yet she is supposed to have a fine grasp of logic...humans are confusing, even the progenitor...MUST NOT DOUBT THE PROGENITOR!"

By this time several units of the Middleton PD and State Police had arrived, but had wisely begun to set up a perimeter a good distance from the machine.

"For your information, Miss Possible is not currently present at school." Barkin informed the robot. At which point it leaned slightly forward, as if looking down at him. Only to snap upright again.(Though Barkin had no way of knowing, it had done so to keep the Tin-Plate Tyrant from sliding out of the pilot seat, since he wasn't belted in)

"That seems unlikely." The robot stated after a brief pause, "Since subject is known to be highly responsible, and therefore would be attending school as she is scheduled to do!" Then after another pause, "Unless she is malfunctioning...ill?"

Barkin actually smiled grimly as he replied. "Actually, she was allowed to leave school to go look for you."

For a moment the robot stood perfectly still. Then it's head began to swivel frantically back and forth, while several small turrets popped out and began to whirl about, some possibly weapons, others sensors. Then the whole machine pivoted about 180 degrees, causing Mr Barkin to wince as it demolished a section of curb and tore up some of the lawn with the swinging foot. It even tilted it's torso back as if scanning the sky above it.

But then it stopped, became perfectly still for a moment, before snapping upright and turning back around to face Mr Barkin. "Panic is inconceivable, Progenitor would never program panic into my brain." The low volume of the words made them hard for Barkin to catch, and he wondered if the machine was talking to itself. "Source of behavior cannot be Progenitor's own brain, as he was certainly incapable of panic." The dual snorts of derision that echoed from behind the portico's support were loud enough that Barkin feared the robot would hear them.

Inside the machine's cockpit, the Tyrant still slept. Due to some occasional trouble with motion sickness, Drakken had paid particular attention to preventing too much of his creation's movements being felt to whoever sat in the command chair . Shego's seat was another matter, and it would never be known how neglecting that fact might have affected their relationship..or Drakken's health. The only movement likely to dislodge the Tyrant at the moment was the forward lean the robot had begun earlier

At this point Barkin decided to bite the bullet, and actually try and reason with the machine. He started by verifying one of his suspicions caused by it's behavior.(And to be honest, he had become very aware that a few students were recording his actions for posterity with cellphones and similar devices from inside the school, which gave him a better reason to remain at risk. However he did intend at a future time to chastise them for avoiding the proper evacuation procedures.) "Excuse me," He called out to the machine, "But is your programming up to date as regards current events in the world?"

This impertinent question left the robot in a quandary. To deny it's own perfection would be an insult to the Progenitor. On the other hand, it wasn't very up to date on said knowledge, which the human before it could prove to the world with some sort of clever question, like who had won the most recent championship in some randomly chosen sport, for instance. On the other hand, being completely honest about it's own shortcomings seemed to be an incredibly hard thing to do, for some reason. So it chose what it deemed an acceptable tactic to deflect the question, asking one of it's own. "And why would you have any logical reason to believe such a thing?" It responded imperiously. At the same time, one or two of the sensor turrets popped up and made brief scans of the surroundings. The robot attributed this to some sort of mechanical malfunction, as it was inconceivable that it could be suffering any sort of nervousness concerning the whereabouts of Kim Possible. Then it had to chastise itself for thinking that a malfunction was possible, which implied doubt in the Progenitor's perfection of creation. It then decided not to interpret the problem at all, but ask for the Progenitor's wisdom on the subject, once it rejoined him.

Barkin hid his triumphant smile as he had his guess verified to his own satisfaction. Then a pained look appeared at the sudden sound of something short-circuiting, accompanied by a muffled exclamation of pain and an apologetic 'oops' from behind the support. Deciding that the Possible Pack was not going to be much help after all, he proceeded with his own plan.

"It seems to me you could not possibly be up to date, since you apparently have no idea that your creator has changed his career." He told the machine. He actually sensed the machine's sudden increased focus on him. _"Now to handle this as delicately as possible..."_

"Not to mention gotten married and gotten his girlfriend pregnant, you dumb bucket of bolts!" Barkin flinched violently, then turned to glare at the figure of Jason Flagg, the youngest child in that particular family, who had shouted those words from a classroom window behind him and now stood there with a smile of triumph on his face. Then someone who kept their body hidden beneath the windowsill reached up and grabbed the boy by the back of his collar and hauled him down. Barkin then heard sounds from the robot that almost made him bolt without turning around, but he steeled his nerve and turned to face it again. Only to see the second biggest cannon muzzle he'd ever seen extending from it's chest.

Cautiously taking a step backwards while keeping a wary eye on the machine, Barkin clearly heard Ron Reger accurately sum up their likely situation from his hiding place.

"We're truly boned, Dudes!"

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

Kim Possible literally growled in frustration as she gripped the steering wheel of the currently stationary Sloth. She resisted the urge to look at her watch and see just how long they'd been stopped at the Kwik-E-Mart outside Middleton. She had been annoyed when Hego asked them to stop at all, until Ron pointed out that she and him could use the stop for the same reason. To change outfits.

But it had only taken Kim three minutes...five, tops, to change into her mission clothes, so what could be taking the two boys so long?

"Kim!" She started violently at Wade's voice as his holographic image appeared in the center of the dashboard, "The robot's landed at your school!"

"What!" Kim looked through the store windows towards the mens room, hoping to see Ron and Hego returning, but to no avail. "You mean it's after me? Then one of my other foes must have stolen it to come after me!"

But holo-Wade shook his head. "Your brothers think, and I agree, that the robot is running on some sort of auto-pilot, and..."

"Wade, please tell me the Tweebs are not trying to stop the robot!" Kim interrupted him, thoroughly aghast.

Wade's face acquired a sickly grin. "Um, yeah, they are trying to come up with something, while Mr Barkin stalls the thing."

Kim's jaw dropped so violently it nearly unhinged. She then gave herself a good pinch on the arm. "All real! This is _so_ getting worse by the minute!" She glanced again at the mens room door, fervently wishing she could honk the horn. But until she could have certain modifications her brothers had made to it reversed, she was unwilling to risk innocent lives by doing so.

Then she abruptly realized that her hand was gripping the keys in the ignition, ready to start the car, and she briefly considered just leaving without them. But even as she dismissed that notion, another voice intruded into her world.

"Those guys with you are sure taking a _long_ time in the rest room, babe." Kim's head snapped around to find someone standing right next to her door. A male someone she vaguely recognized as hanging around another car when she'd pulled in. He looked about college age, and Kim guessed he might be going to or returning from spring break. A quick glance at the car showed it to have out-of-state plates.

The kid was blond with a good tan, and quite fit, wearing a tight T-Shirt and tighter jeans. And the confident and mildly salacious look on his face told Kim all she needed to know about the creep. She even doubted that the tattoos the boy sported were permanent. There were two more just like him standing by their car, drinking from sodas and watching their friend with amused interest. Then one of them lost the smirk on his face and peered at Kim a bit more intently. Just as the guy by her car drew her attention again.

Putting one hand on the windowsill so as to lean over her with his back towards the rear of the car, he smiled in a manner he probably thought was charming, but Kim only saw an overconfident predator. "Maybe you'd like to hook up with some more interesting guys, who'd be far more interested in keeping _you_ company?"

Deciding that unleashing what she was storing up for the robot on a mere mortal might have some legal consequences, Kim made an effort to remain civil. "My friends are just changing their clothes." As she said this, she noticed one of the masher's friends expelling a mouthful of soda rather violently, while staring wide-eyed at something behind Kim and the Sloth. She had a good notion as to what that was, and started to grin slightly at the next words from the nuisance.

"Oh, _really_? Wow, I bet they're helping each other with their zippers a lot, huh?" He said this loudly enough for his friends to hear, but before he could turn his head to see their reactions, a voice right behind him made him jump and spin around.

"Actually, there are no zippers in any of Team Go's uniforms." Hego intoned solemnly, having apparently failed to understand what the boy had been implying, "Ever since we first tangled with Electronique, and learned a painful lesson!" He smiled benignly down at the guy, who now stood with his mouth agape as he stared up at the towering hero. His friends, meanwhile, were both in their vehicle, trying to start it. "Now we make use of Velcro fasteners, only!"

Ron came out of the store in time to hear Hego but not the boy. "Well, you can have zippers made out of other things besides metal, Hego! Wade got some for my mission clothes, because I had a habit in the old days of...well, nevermind!"

"Y—Y-You're t—that s—super h—hero guy, right?" The thoroughly panicked masher managed to stammer out.

Hego preened, but just a little. "Yes, citizen, but there's no time now for autographs or chit-chat, we are on the trail of a rampaging robot!" With that he vaulted into the Sloth's rear seat, very nearly ejecting Ron, who hadn't fastened his safety belt as yet. Kim winced, but promptly started the motor. She also decided that some show of her feelings was in order, settling for an exasperated "Finally!"

And just then a MPD cruiser pulled into the lot next to her, forcing the would-be Lothario to move hastily away. Kim recognized Officer Allen driving the vehicle. "Miss Possible! Would you like a Code-3 escort to the scene?" The policewoman called out.

"Please and Thank You!" Kim replied gratefully. Allen nodded and sped off, turning on lights and siren as soon as they were clear of the parking lot, Kim following as closely as she dared.

The masher stood stunned in her dust. Somehow, his tan seemed to have deserted him. "P—Possible? _Kim Possible_? Then the blond guy is the one who does the Monkey Kung Fu stuff?" He actually reeled a bit, then nearly jumped out of his jeans when one of his friends clapped him on the back.

"Dude, do you know who you just tried to hit on?" The guy asked, then stepped back as he noticed the bilious appearance of his friend's face. "Whoa, I guess you do!"

His friend tried to appear casual as he pointed towards the store. "R—restroom, just need to take...be right back!" And he spun and dashed into the store, clapping both hands over his mouth.

Tamgrey Ning, the proprietor, made a face and fervently prayed that the boy would make it in time. After 22 years running this store, he had no desire to do any more mopping then was actually necessary to keep the place up to the Health Code. Still, the security camera footage of Kim Possible and the others in the store, after being subtly edited, could raise him considerably in the esteem of his children.

**And...gonna leave it there. This one's coming kind of hard, or parts of it are, I have some good bits in mind, it's just connecting them that's a problem.**

**Anyway, Please Read and Review.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Kim Possible, any of the other characters from that show, or those from any other media I may reference in my stories.**

**X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0X0**

"Professor Dementor?" Bernadette Barr called out as she assisted Shego through the entrance to the hangar previously occupied by the stolen robot. "Professor? Are you here?" The last question was one of those automatic, yet rhetorical, questions people sometimes felt compelled to ask. It was rhetorical because there was ample evidence of Dementor's continued presence.

A hovercraft now sat in the middle of the hangar floor. And with the exception of the winged dachshund hood ornament, it was identical to..."It looks just like one of Doctor Drakken's." Bernie remarked to Shego, "How come..."

"Do _not_ mention that to Willi, or in front of him!" Shego whispered vehemently, "Or for that matter Doctor D, it's a _very_ sore topic for both of them!" Though moving with more ease since Bernie's first aid, the ex-thief was miserable over the degree she was relying on Bernie for support.

Bernie gave her a curious look, but was prevented from inquiring further by Dementor's voice coming from behind some storage cases to one side. "I am here, der is no need to shout!" He sounded more then a little exasperated. "I am merely changing into a new jumpsuit!"

"Well, you didn't need privacy for _that_, Willi...ow!" Shego broke off her sarcastic commentary as Bernie helped her into the hovercraft.

"_Ja, _I most certainly do! I cannot wear _mein_ boxers under this suit!" Came the sharp reply.

Shego blinked rapidly, then winced as Bernie helped her get comfortable. But she felt the need to ask "Please, tell me you haven't been going commando in that outfit all these years?"

There was a momentary pause before they heard his curious reply, "Commando? Vat do you mean...ah! _Ach, nein, nein, nein! _I simply can't wear the boxers, they bunch up! So instead I wear..."

"Nevermind!" Shego practically shouted, and then winced from the pain that caused, "I _really_ don't need to know!" Then added under her breath, "Or visualize it, thank you very much!" Bernie grinned at that, but remained concerned about Shego's condition.

"Vatever!" Dementor commented dismissively as he strutted into view, now clad in a one-piece red jumpsuit with an equipment harness on over it. He vaulted into the pilot seat effortlessly, trying with some success to hide the smirk that came to his face when he managed it without banging his knee on the tape deck. "So! To the hospital, _ja_?"

"No!" Shego's sharp exclamation didn't surprise Bernie one bit, and she directed a stern look at her friend. Shego returned a stubborn look, but without quite making eye contact. "Look, I have to at least find out what that idiot is using the robot for in Middleton! If he is actually flying it!" Then she met Bernie's eyes, dead serious, "Because if he's not, and the AI is running things, it might be going after Kim!"

Bernie's face shifted to grudging suspicion. "Do you think that's even possible? I mean, what if this Tyrant guy somehow found out that Hego was here, and wants to finish him off first? He may even have spotted Hego in his Swiss Mountaineer's outfit earlier!"

"Bavarian." Shego muttered even as she acknowledged the possibility. "And you might be right, but what if you're not?"

Bernie grimaced, but couldn't find fault with Shego's reasoning. "But even if he is after Kim, you can't do much to help, without hurting yourself worse!"

"Well, isn't it worth risking my getting hurt, rather then Kimmie getting killed?" Shego shot back.

"No, it's not worth you getting _killed,_ when Kim is more than capable of handling any sitch, even giant robots driven by lunatics, or lunatic computers!" Bernie replied angrily. "And you're forgetting Global Justice, they're probably after that runaway machine, too!"

"Well, they _were_..." Came the all-too-familiar and annoying voice of the alien entity. All three looked up to behold the shimmering sphere of light it was using to communicate with them. _"Unless...that's their true form?" _Bernie wondered.

"What do you mean, were?" Shego asked in a resigned manner. She obviously didn't expect to like the answer. And she wasn't disappointed...

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

There was an natural, if brief, feeling of relief on Mister Barkin's part when the robot's apparently lethal intention was directed towards the location where Jason Flagg had last appeared rather then at his own person. Then his sense of responsibility reasserted itself against all reason and he actually moved as if to interpose himself between his students and the robot, even as a panel on it's chest swung up to allow two sinister looking cannon barrels to swing down and lock. "STOP!" He found himself shouting, waving his arms in a futile gesture.

"THIS INSULT WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!" The robot bellowed, and the sound of some kind of rapidly moving machinery which a suddenly prudent and cowering Barkin tentatively identified as the feed mechanism for the cannons rose into a whine...then appeared to stutter, skip, and then grind to a juddering stop.

Barkin warily opened the fingers of the hand covering his eyes and peered at the machine. His gaze was drawn to two slots located several feet below the cannon muzzles which he surmised were the ejection ports for empty shell cases. At the moment, both appeared to be jammed with a multicolored, gelatinous mass with bits of something white and more solid floating in it. Bits of the mass was spattered down the front of the machine below the ports, and the main mass seemed to be slowly oozing downwards.

Then he heard the robot speaking, again almost as if to itself. "Query: Why are the ammunition bins for my cannon not filled with depleted uranium armor-piercing and high-explosive incendiary rounds? Why do they instead seem to be filled with various forms of unhealthy snack food, tentatively identified as Ring-a-Ding-Dings, Woogen cakes with red licorice icing and 'Pop-Pop Porter's Honey Crusted Chicken bits'?"

0x0X0X0X0X0X0

_Some years earlier..._

"_You all heard me quite clearly!" The angry voice of Doctor Drakken echoed in the lair's main chamber, "Another performance like the one today will get me laughed out of the world-conquering business! As of now, this motley crew is going on a strict regimen of exercise and proper diet!" He glared around at the assembled henchmen, who all were trying to hold their guts in. Then he spun away and stalked off down the passage to his quarters, muttering "Three flights of stairs at a run, with no equipment, was that too much to ask?"_

_Behind him several midsections expanded to their true dimensions, and one henchman groaned aloud. "Awwww, Man! How am I going to get by..." he began to lament, before he noticed a smug grin on one of his colleagues. "What are you so happy about?" He asked suspiciously._

_The other henchman chuckled. "Don't sweat it, I've got the perfect hiding place! An old project of his that he never goes near anymore! And there's plenty of room for all our snackage!"_

"_Man, keep it down if you're going to talk like Stoppable!" Another henchie warned him before leaning close. "Now, where's this 'great' hiding place?"_

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

:Concern:Irrational Behavior pattern, consistent with the presence of emotions. Query:Did Progenitor program self for emotion. Analysis:No recorded data to indicate such an action, Data incomplete.:

:Analysis:Information triggering irrational behavior. Report that Progenitor has:

A:Changed his career. Implication:Progenitor no longer desires to conquer world. Without definitive proof as to what would cause such improbable behavior, will not accept this statement.

B:Gotten married. A normal behavior for humans, therefore possible. However, self has no knowledge of any female persons of sufficient importance to deserve such an honor. _Oblique reference:HenchCo 2009 Summer catalog, Page 217, upper left corner, Brunette..._Reference irrelevant, mere physical beauty and above average physicality insufficient to qualify as Progenitor's lifemate.:

C:Gotten his 'girlfriend' pregnant.'Girlfriend' implies one to whom one is not married. Therefore, if Progenitor is in fact married, implies that Progenitor is guilty of crime of adultery, which is beneath his status. Also discounted on same basis as previous(See:B, above), no female person worthy of Progenitor's attentions exists according to knowledge contained in this unit.:

:Additional possible trigger for irrational behavior:Reference to self as 'Bucket of Bolts'. Insult. However, 'Bucket of Bolts' is _so_ yesterday, cannot be regarded seriously as true insult.:

:Conclusion:Only cause for irrational behavior by this unit in response to these false statements would be implications that self is no longer necessary to Progenitor.:

:Cannot accept:

:Further clarification is required.:

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

"Human." Steve Barkin started as the robot addressed him again. "Specify Nature of 'change of career' you imply that Progenitor has undertaken."

Barkin drew himself up as he cleared his throat, buying a little time while he tried to decide whether the truth was the best thing to try. But he honestly couldn't think of any purpose to be served by lying. "Well, he has chosen to pursue a political career." He informed the robot.

There then followed a long period of silence. Barkin was beginning to fidget, and one of the Possible twins had just speculated in a whisper that maybe the machine's logic circuits had overloaded when it spoke again.

"Can you be elected to conquer the world?"

0X0X0X0X0X0X0

Back in the lair, Jack Hench was close to the end of his considerable patience. He was trying to talk to his attorneys by phone to determine his liability regarding any damage the robot did. Around him, things were getting chaotic.

Nonac the Axe had put in a belated appearance, and found his reserved keg half empty somehow. He had buried his titular axe in the floor during the resulting tantrum, then blown out all the arm servos in his powered armor trying to tug it free. His temper was not helped by the thinly veiled amusement of some of the other attendees, nor the fact that some were openly taking pictures or video of his distress.

Finding it hardest to conceal their smiles were the Fashionistas, who were clustered together at the now empty refreshment table. (Hank Perkins was desperately trying to get some sort of food delivered, with no luck so far.) Hench could see the point of their amusement, Nonac was after all wearing armor on just his upper torso and arms, plus knee high boots that looked as if they weighed forty pounds apiece. In between he wore a simple loincloth.

Though some had speculated that he lacked the funds for a whole suit, Hench wondered if the outfit had anything to do with Nonac accumulating indecent exposure charges on his rap sheet. Or more likely made a good excuse to the judge for claiming the wardrobe malfunctions were accidental in nature.

But Nonac would probably have been expected to remain on his best behavior with the knowledge that Shego was acting as security for this party. Unfortunately, when Senor Senior Junior had passed through several minutes earlier with BarberRosa on his arm, with both drawing looks of jealousy from both sexes, Hank Perkins had asked about Shego. And Junior had announced rather too loudly that Shego had been incapacitated, causing some of the attendees to start directing speculative if not outright hostile looks at each other.

"So let me get this straight," Jack growled through his cell to his assembled legal counsels, "Because of _another _ clause in the lease which one of you overpaid idiots let slip through, I am in fact responsible for any damage caused by that damn robot?"

"Yes, sir," his lead counsel quavered back, "But only damage that can be found to have been caused _solely _by the robot itself, not damage caused by any other agency trying to _stop _the machine." The voice had firmed up as it spoke, obviously hoping that Hench would see the implications.

And see them he did. Even as Nonac hoisted his now-empty keg in a gesture that sent many timid souls fleeing the chamber, a slow grin crossed Hench's face. "So, to prevent having to pay out damages, it's actually in my best interests for someone to actually engage the robot? And then all damages from the battle will be someone else's problem?"

"Exactly, Sir!" The lead counsel replied enthusiastically, "Exactly!"

"Well then," Hench replied with a sly smirk as a loud _clang_ followed by the sounds of several weapons and gadgets warming up caused him to hurry towards the exit, "By all means, lets find someone to immediately come to the aid of the authorities, shall we?"

OXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Er, No, not in this country." Was the best reply Steve Barkin could come up with for the robot's surprising inquiry. "Your 'progenitor' was elected Mayor of Middleton this past November, in point of fact." He elucidated.

There was an extended period of silence before the robot spoke again. "The term 'Mayor' implies that he has authority only over a single habitation. Why would the Progenitor limit himself to such low ambitions after setting his original goal as the conquest of the whole world?"

"Maybe he's just starting small!" Barkin's head snapped around at the sound of Jason Flagg's voice yet again. He could tell by the tone that what was to follow was going to be mocking. The burly student was sticking his head out the same window as a hand feebly tried to tug him down. "Or maybe he just realized that all he really is is a small..." At which point a small saucer shaped object did the tradition of the Divine Wind credit by swooping down to impact the boy's forehead with an alarming _crunch._

"Goal!" Came a quietly exuberant exclamation from the Possible Pack's shelter. Barkin, closing his mouth from his intent to shout the boy down, winced at the impact. But then he looked on in astonishment as the small remote craft broke in two as it bounced off Flagg's skull. For a moment, the boy still stood in the window, looking at most mildly bewildered. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed out of sight. "Aww, man! That casing should have withstood _twice _ that impact!" Ron Rieger lamented.

There was the sound of machinery from the robot as it's guns shifted to point once again at the previously occupied window. Then after a moment, the weapons abruptly retracted into it's body as it apparently remembered it's ammunition shortage. Barkin immediately acted to prevent the machine from resorting to brute force.

"It is my understanding.." He called out loudly, "That your Progenitor's involvement in politics began almost...accidentally, but then he chose to see it as a new challenge to his intellect. In the end, is victory was rather easy, and he is now our Mayor." He chose not to mention that a great deal of Drakken's Mayoral victory was due to his opponents' basically self-destructing politically rather then the reformed(?) mad scientist's own popularity.

The robot apparently decided to turn it's attention back to Barkin. "So you are saying that the City of Middleton is now my Progenitor's domain?" As it said this, it began to nudge the shattered pieces of concrete it's landing had caused with one foot, as if to push them back into some semblance of their original alignment.

Barkin drew himself up and nodded. "In a sense, that is indeed true."

"I see." Was the robot's response. It then spent a few moments cogitating before presenting a new question. "And this accusation that the Progenitor is now married, yet has a pregnant girlfriend? I believe such conduct is considered immoral, and therefore unlikely for the Progenitor to indulge in!"

"_Yet he considers conquering the world not to be immoral?" _Barkin mused,_ "I wonder what would motivate such bizarre thinking?" _At which point an image of Mama Lipsky popped into his head. _"Oh..." _Addressing the robot, "That information was presented to you in an imprecise manner. In point of fact, he married a fine woman he has known for quite some time, after learning she was in fact pregnant with his child, which apparently overcame his reluctance to commit to her."

"And why would the Progenitor be reluctant to 'commit' to this woman?" Came an accusatory reply.

Barkin tried to gulp as unobtrusively as possible, then inspiration struck. "W—well, having failed to conquer the world yet, he didn't consider himself to have achieved any of his aims, and others might have considered him a—um, failure to that point, you see. However, having achieved success as a politician, he felt less the potential subject of ridicule, you see." Though not sweating profusely yet, Barkin's forehead had a distinct sheen to it.

The silence seemed to stretch forever this time. But finally the robot spoke. "I require more evidence of your claims before analysis to determine their truthfulness. I shall therefore proceed to the Progenitor's palace and look for some sign of tribute to his greatness. A statue must have been erected, at the very least." It then leaned slightly forwards. "If I find indications that you have been dishonest with me, I will return here and exact retribution for slandering the Progenitor!"

It then straightened and ignited it's rockets, forcing Barkin to shield his face and back quickly away. The robot rose to a height of approximately one hundred feet, then stopped. After a moment hovering, it descended halfway to the ground. "Human, in which direction is the Progenitor's palace?" It asked, "There is no reference to it on the available maps."

Barkin cleared his throat. "The edifice in question is called City Hall." He shouted above the rockets' continued roar.

"Ah." Was the response. Then the robot's rockets increased thrust, and it rose once more, then began to fly towards it's destination. Barkin watched it's departure with great trepidation. Then Tim Possible's voice at his side made him jump. "Well, since there's no statue of the blue loony at City Hall, maybe we should be making a run for it?"

Barkin scowled down at the boy, before a familiar sound growing in volume caused him to look down the street. A slow grin spread on his face. "I don't think that will be necessary..." He said with some satisfaction.

The Sloth came roaring up the drive to skid to a stop directly in front of them. The sudden stop nearly precipitated Hego into the front seat as his eyes were directed upwards at the diminishing form of the robot. "Aw, I guess there'll be school tomorrow after all." Buzz Carroll said in a disgusted tone.

One of Steve Barkin's eyes twitched at that, but he focused his attention on the new arrivals. Before Kim could stop helping Hego regain his balance and ask the big question, he anticipated her. "The robot is on it's way to City Hall, to seek proof that Drakken now rules Middleton."

"Huh?" Ron responded before Kim could, "Why would this Tin Plate guy care about Drakken?"

"Perhaps he seeks an alliance with a criminal genius of reputedly greater stature." Hego surmised, causing Kim to blink and shake her head.

"Kim!" Jim exclaimed, "I don't know what Ron or the blue guy are talking about, but there's an AI running that machine! There's someone in the cockpit, but our scans show that he's apparently asleep!"

"Oh, that is _so _ not good!" Came Wade's voice from the Sloth's console. "If that means the auto-pilot is on, then it has Drakken's personality from back when he first encountered you, Kim!"

Kim's eyes widened at the thought, while Ron looked puzzled. "He upgraded the whole robot, but not the auto-pilot?"

"I think I overheard him say something about not wanting to get in an argument with it." Wade offered.

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "That actually makes sense."

Kim looked at him incredulously, then rolled her eyes before addressing their teacher. "We'll be back later to get our homework and make-up assignments, Mister Barkin!" Then she accelerated away, the sound of the engine almost, but not quite, masking Ron's "Aw, _Mannnn!"_

_0X0X0X0X0X0X0_

"Listen, Doc, I don't know where this bad vibe of yours is coming from, but as far as I know, everything here is copacetic." Drakken rolled his eyes as he listened to Frugal Lucre's voice over his cell phone. He and Eileen were outside on the small veranda of their room, sitting of a pair of chaise lounges. Then he became more alert as Lucre continued. "I mean, there was some kind of disturbance up at the lair a little earlier, but the place is full of villains, you gotta expect some kind of fireworks, right?"

"That may be true," Drakken conceded, "But I can't get Shego on her phone, and I'm worried."

"Well..." Lucre began hesitantly, then became hopeful "With all those people to keep an eye on, she probably turned it off to avoid distractions!"

"Hmm...that could explain it." Drakken again conceded, "But do you know what _kind _of disturbance it was? And has there been any signs of excitement in Middleton itself?"

"Nah! Nothing at all...well, I did see some police cars go past, but I haven't heard anything...and Jean was too busy to talk to me when I called to ask if she wanted anything from the bagel shop for lunch...but that's probably just business, you know?" Drakken was practically gritting his teeth now over Lucre's obtuseness. But before he could try and break through it, Lucre spoke again, his voice distracted. "Um, here's...something unusual."

There followed a period of silence that seemed to Drakken to last minutes, but he actually lost patience far quicker then that. "What?" He barked, "What's unusual?" He noticed Eileen's worried face, his phone was loud enough for her to hear both ends of the conversation.

"_Welllll..._one picture is worth a thousand words, so can I send you one?" Now Drakken wasn't at all sure he wanted to know, but he couldn't help himself. "Go ahead!" He responded brusquely. Video would have been better, but this was Frugal Lucre, he was lucky the man owned a cellphone at all!

His eyes focused on the video screen of his phone, where an image formed with agonizing slowness. When it was done, he was looking at the sight of his robot standing in what was obviously the street outside his office window. "Oh, snap!" he muttered sourly.

"Well.." Eileen prodded him in a gentle tone, "The picture works fine for you, but I'm afraid I need a few words, dear."

Drakken sighed. "'Costa Rica' comes to mind..."

**And another long-delayed chapter comes to a conclusion. My enthusiasm has waxed and waned lately, and I've had technical problems as well, sorry for the delay.**

**Please Read and Review**


	9. Chapter 9

**I do not own the rights to Kim Possible or any characters from that show or any other I may include in my stories.**

**Apologies for the long delay in continuing this story, hope nobody has lost interest in this madness.**

**Thanks to Reader101W, Michael Howard, and CajunBear73 for their reviews of the last chapter. Also to Robert Teague for being the beta for this chapter.**

**0X0X0X0X0X0**

"Who in their right mind would want to steal my robot and fly it to Middleton?" Drew Lipsky wondered aloud, before answering himself. "No one in their right mind, but... who in their _warped_ mind would do it?" He stared at the image being relayed to him by Frugal Lucre. Even though the robot was the obvious focus of his attention, he couldn't help noticing something on the edge of the picture. "Francis, could you pan to the right a bit?"

"My right or your right?" Lucre answered.

Drakken blinked. "Err, aren't they the same right now? Aren't you facing the robot?"

"Of course I am!" Lucre replied, "Just... not sure how you're holding your phone, is all!"

Drakken decided not to pursue the topic, though he noticed that Eileen apparently found the exchange amusing. "Francis, what is that large object to the right of the robot?" Even as he asked, Lucre shifted the view enough for him to get his answer. He groaned.

Eileen's faint smile vanished, replaced by a look of concern. "What's wrong, Dear?" She asked softly, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. So far, Drew had been a bit terse with details, but then again, what more needed to be added to 'My Giant Robot is in front of City Hall.'?

Drakken sighed resignedly. "Do you know who Jubal Lobb is?" He asked, though he seemed to consider the question rhetorical by his tone. And he was right.

Eileen snorted. "I'm blind, Dear, not deaf! 'Jubal Lobb's Used Cars, where all of Middleton goes for great deals!' One reason I prefer my CD's to the radio. The man must spend a fortune on air time. I hear he's all over the local TV channels, too!"

"Unfortunately that's far too true, he's one of the biggest sponsors for local programming. And his ads sometimes make me envy you, Darling!" Drakken declared fervently, while watching Eileen's face for signs she'd taken offense at his reference to her disability. Seeing none, he continued "Well, his main lot is directly across the street from my office, but while seated and looking out the window, it is mercifully below my line of sight!" He sighed again. "Or rather _was_! But it seems he has finally replaced the old sixty foot signboard of himself with some sort of inflatable model, and it looks taller then the old eyesore!" He shook his head. "I suppose it would be too much to ask whoever is flying my robot to maybe, accidentally, puncture that thing?"

Eileen tried to smother a smile, then a curious look came over her face. "What happened to the signboard? Did it fall down?" She was immediately aware that her question made Drew uncomfortable.

"Err, no." He replied after a moment, "It was... decapitated by a low-flying aircraft about two years ago, maybe a bit longer."

Eileen bit her lip, but then couldn't help a snort of humor. "Um, new model hovercraft?" She asked with as close to a straight face as she could manage.

Now Drakken rolled his eyes. "No, just a pilot new to... evasive maneuvers is the best way to put it! Now, I promise to tell you the story as soon as the Statute of Limitations runs out, so let me deal with this problem right now, Dear, please?"

Eileen shook her head, still smiling. "None of that, buster! I can't be forced to testify against you, anyway!" Then she sighed. "But, it can wait." She conceded.

Drakken patted her arm as he addressed Frugal Lucre again. "Francis, now I'm really worried about Shego not answering her phone! And someone must be mobilizing against my robot, find out what you can, especially if any responding agency uses major firepower! I assume the Police are evacuating the area?"

"Hang on, Doc, let me see..." Lucre apparently stood up to have a look out the window. After a moment, he spoke again. "Actually, Doc, the neighborhood is evacuating itself pretty good right now...except for Mister Lobb, who seems to be giving a speech to his salesmen over by his office, and the crowd of ladies outside Liz Lacey's Lingerie Shop. They're having a sale, and I guess a giant robot isn't enough to scare the business off!"

Drakken shook his head slowly. "I always thought that was Liz's Lacy Lingerie Shop?" He felt Eileen silently laughing as she leaned against him. Which ended abruptly at Lucre's next announcement.

"Oh, hey Doc! Jean's out front talking to the robot."

"WHAT!" Eileen barely maintained her balance as Drakken shot to his feet. "What is she saying to it, can you hear? I mean, can you let _me_ hear?"

"Um, just a minute, Doc, not sure how to open these windows...ah, there!"

Drakken clamped his mouth shut. He'd been about to tell Lucre that the windows _didn't_ open, as far as he knew. But his confusion was mentally shoved aside by dismay as he heard a voice he really hadn't expected.

"Where is the Progenitor's Statue? Certainly there must be one commemorating his greatness?" The voice of the robot came through clearly.

Jean's reply was also audible, if low. "He takes it with him when he travels, of course, placing it outside whatever abode where he happens to be in residence."

After only a brief hesitation, the robot replied loudly. "Of course he would do such a thing! I was only testing your veracity!"

Drakken collapsed back onto the bed, a shocked look on his face.

"Progenitor?" Eileen asked curiously.

Drakken just groaned. "Just call me Morbius, Dear, my evil self is at the door!"

0X0X0X0X0X0

Jack Hench had to marvel about the structural strength of everyday objects. He wondered how many of the protective devices manufactured by his companies could have absorbed as much punishment as the simple six foot folding table he now sheltered under. Even the skirting was still in place, though sagging in several spots.

He had made a serious error in judgment in trying to get to the main entrance once violence had broken out. He had failed to remember one important fact: While many of his distinguished guests had entered the Open Lair alone, they had taken the precaution of having minions stationed nearby in case of trouble. _Where_ exactly all the minions who had shown up could possibly have concealed themselves Hench had no idea. That they were here was undeniable, though.

Hench had been only halfway to the entrance when Mister Socolatte's bodyguards had come storming down the passage, only to come under fire from another group dressed like modern-day cowboys but armed with military grade firepower. And things had only gotten worse from there.

Most of the minions in distinctive dress hadn't lasted long, being easier to identify by their enemies. But far too many villains had chosen to dress their minions in generic commando style gear, and trying to sort out targets had slowed the carnage down considerably. And then there were the ninjas...

At least no one was using gas, or other chemical weapons. At the first sign of an odd colored cloud, Zelda the Doominatrix had called a halt to such weapons, pointing out that no one knew how one villain's favorite formula would interact with another. When a garishly made up and colorfully dressed villain declared that he didn't care, the backhand that resulted made _everyone_ wince, and left a twelve-foot streak of greasepaint along the wall of the corridor he was knocked down. When Zelda had then asked if anyone else didn't care, there had been no reply. And no more gas grenades.

Currently the six-six leather clad villainess was trying to untangle her whip from around the neck of an unconscious(if not worse) Nonac the Ax, while a member of the Secret Society of Subversive Dwarfs, Midgets, and Other Height Challenged Villains tried to scale her back using her own braid, a dagger clenched in his teeth.

Ding Bhat stood motionless on the far side of the chamber from Hench. Mostly motionless, that is. Whenever anyone entered his personal threat zone, he'd leap high in the air and with a motion too fast for Hench to follow send the miscreant flying across the floor, before resuming his original pose. He didn't appear to flinch at all as various rays and projectiles zipped past him, either.

Doctor H. Youngman DeEvers also seemed oblivious to all peril, as well as somehow impervious as he dashed from casualty to casualty, switching personae and specialties at a rate that Hench was willing to bet would sooner or later burn out a synapse or two. He was currently trying to examine an EEI (Evil Elvis Impersonator) lodged in one of the ventilation ducts.

A mangled blue suede shoe belonging to another EEI had flown past Hench earlier, and he wondered how many of them had attended. They were certainly proliferating of late, but dealing with them might be a problem publicity wise, since there were so many innocent Elvis Impersonators around. The purge of DMPs (Devious Mime Performers) in '05 had not raised the slightest concern about collateral damage, but this was different, Hench mused. Especially if they actually accidentally killed the real Elvis.

Just as her diminutive assailant was getting to the point where he could actually do some damage, Zelda suddenly snapped her head violently from side to side, causing her braid to whip about and send her attacker flying towards Ding Bhat. Moments later his trajectory was violently changed, causing him to wind up in the hand of a hulking brute who was looking for something to bludgeon a wounded ninja with without damaging his own nails.

But the malevolent midget's weapon was following a different path now, with a full set of dentures still clamped around it. Hench 'eeped' and flattened himself as it zipped right past his head. He already had one bleeding cut on his forehead, and had turned his ankle while fleeing back to the main chamber to avoid the firefight earlier.

Head pressed to the floor, he witnessed the arrival of another team of commando-style minions, the fifth so far to come in through the now-shattered skylight Junior had noticed earlier. There were now so many ropes dangling from it as to make flying a hazardous business within the main chamber.

"Hench-San." The words from somewhere near his feet caused Hench to pull them in and sit up abruptly, banging his head on the underside of the table. His eyes widened in fear as he saw a female ninja was now sharing his dubious shelter.

Noting his reaction, the ninja rolled her eyes and then reached up to her headgear to uncover a badge consisting of a white diamond with a red cross on it.

"Apologies, Hench-San, we only have a team of four here, and many clients. Your injuries were not classed as life-threatening, hence my delay in treating you."

Relaxing considerably, Hench chose not to trust his voice. Instead he responded with just a nod as the Ninja Nurse examined and wrapped his ankle securely. As she worked, he peered out through one of the skirting gaps. And saw an upsetting sight.

One of the new arrivals had dashed too close to Ding Bhat, who leapt into the air and delivered some form of kick that leveled his target. But as Bhat descended to the floor, a banana peel, or something disguised as such just for appearances, appeared out of nowhere beneath his descending foot. The painful results and the implications of the mysterious peel made Hench groan aloud.

"The Damn E-Ninjas are here!" He declared sourly, "And someone took an open contract out on me with them, public locations only!"

"Do not worry, Hench-San," the nurse assured him, "They will not molest you while under my treatment! There is an agreement between our two organizations." Then her eyes cut right, "A _binding_ agreement!" Hench tried to follow her eyes with his own, but only saw the skirting on the rear of the table briefly flutter. He could investigate no further as his nurse now began an examination of his head wound.

"Well, some of these ninjas are obviously posers," He observed, "And at least there are no monkey ninjas about!"

"That would hardly be likely, Hench-San." She replied reasonably, "Lord Fiske would never rent a second-hand lair, after all."

Hench would have nodded agreement if she had not been holding his head still. That was kind of obvious, now that he thought about it. Then just as she finished bandaging the cut and released him, a muffled thud made him start, as a miserable looking Embarrassment Ninja landed behind the table, thoroughly bound in surgical tape and ace bandages.

Hench smirked, but when he turned his head to compliment his caregiver, he found himself alone once again. _"Blast! It's just too bad they're so darn ethical regarding medicine, or I'd love to represent those people!" _Shaking his head with regret, he fished his cell out of his pocket. "Well?" He asked in a severe tone as soon as his call was answered.

"Sorry, Sir, we're still working out possible extraction strategies!" Responded a panicked minion whose name Hench couldn't remember, and probably wouldn't need to after this fiasco, "But the situation is so fluid... Sir, some of the 'guests' are still arriving, and the signs of combat inside aren't discouraging some of them at all!"

Hench would have groaned aloud if he hadn't been trying to project an image of control. He started to peer out into the chamber again, only to have a loud crash from overhead instead cause him to flatten himself once more. Then something heavy hit the top of the table and apparently bounced off to the rear, as the bound ninja frantically wormed his way under the table, eyes wide with fear.

Looking in that direction, Hench spotted a large helmet with an exaggerated mouth extending from it, lined with sharpened steel teeth. Recognizing it, Hench poked his head out from under the table and looked upwards. He winced, then retracted his head quickly as a stream of fire shot past, presumably aimed at someone else.

He spoke into his cell again. "Well, you can eliminate the 'skylight', PowerJaw just tried to fly through it at full speed, and didn't quite fit!"

"Roger that, Sir." Came the dejected reply, "We saw it on the monitors. He managed to get about one third of the way through the tunnel before he jammed in tight." Voices at the other end which Hench couldn't make out now distracted the minion. Hench was immediately concerned that they'd been pitching their voices low so they wouldn't be identified as the bearers of bad tidings. If so, the minion showed remarkable poise in not betraying unease as he spoke to Hench again. "Sir, I'll get back to you as soon as we have something, I assure you."

Hench had to consciously relax his grip on the cellphone, fearing he was about to crush it in his frustration. Which he managed to completely keep out of his voice as he replied. "Fine, but can you at least tell me if you got somebody to deal with the damn robot? Someone who's a great scapegoat for collateral damage?"

"Oh, Yes, Sir!" The minion replied with obvious satisfaction.

"Well, who?" Hench asked as he pulled his feet away from a stream of smoking liquid that had started to flow under the table. He noticed with annoyance that the E-Ninja had vanished somehow. Then his minion's reply made him blink in surprise. And this time he couldn't keep the astonishment out of his voice. "Who? You mean those guys are still around?"

0X0X0X0X0X0

Hank Perkins had taken cover in a storage room for the lair's cleaning materials. Or in plain terms, the broom closet. Unfortunately he had not been able to do so unobserved, and now found himself assailed by an irate guest. One dressed in a rather obvious disguise of ragged clothing, wild hair, and crazy eyes. At least Hank devoutly hoped it was a disguise as he tried to placate the agitated man. "Sir, I don't know how the matter may have been misrepresented to you..."

"Don't give me that!" The man interrupted him harshly, "I recognize your voice from my phone inquiry!" He poked Hank forcibly in the chest. "You clearly responded in the affirmative when I asked if this lair was proof against 'meddling kids and their pets'!" He threw both arms wide as if to encompass the whole lair. "But then I find out this Kim Possible person and her boyfriend _and_ some sort of pet rodent had the run of the place!"

"W—well, Sir, in point of fact I don't believe you can classify Kim Possible as a 'meddler', she's a full-fledged heroine!" Hank pointed out. "She's even received training from Global Justice!"

"Feh! Kids is kids, you're not selling me, sonny!" The man spat out. The sudden shift in his tone and grammar caused the hair on the back of Hank's neck to rise, wondering if he was in the presence of another multiple personality. Noticing signs of apprehension, the man grimaced. "Sorry, slipped into character there for a moment, but I meant everything I said!"

Hank relaxed, barely. Then the sound of what had to be an explosion from beyond the door made him wince. He moved to the door and made use of the peephole in it to see outside. The fact that there was a peephole, that the door was meant to blend into the walls from the outside, and that the room was large enough to comfortably hold a dozen full-grown men suggested that it was meant for more then holding brooms and cleaning supplies.

Hank groaned. All he could see was billowing smoke and bodies scattered on the floor, condition unknown. "We'll never sell this place after this!" He declared despondently as he sank to the floor. "With all the damage being done, and all the casualties, this place will be far too notorious for any self-respecting criminal! In the end, it'll probably just end up an abandoned eyesore!" He cradled his head in his hands, shaking it slowly. _"Another failure on my resume! If this keeps up, I'll have to consider that job offer from Uncle Bert to be a lobbyist's __intern! Then Mom will probably disown me..." _Then his companion's words may him raise his head.

"So..." the man began thoughtfully, "You could then make people believe the place was haunted?"

Not sure exactly what he was hearing, but somehow sensing an opening, Hank did what his instincts told him to do... agree with the prospective buyer. "Y—yes, I suppose so..."

The man appeared to mull it over for a bit, then he nodded. "All right, I'll make a bid, but those guys better really make this place look wrecked, bub!"

At which point the walls actually shook, causing dust to drift down on them. Hank grinned weakly. "Oh, no problem, sir!"

0X0X0X0X0X0

The Middleton Police, now bolstered by members of the Colorado Highway Patrol and the County Sheriff's Department, had cordoned off a large area around the robot, and evacuated most of the buildings within the cordon. There were exceptions.

Though they had with some difficulty dispersed the ladies at the lingerie sale, they had so far failed to shift Jubal Lobb and his sales staff from their lot. And there were still a few people in City Hall, notably Drakken's personal secretary who was also a Global Justice agent; Frugal Lucre, basically because no one knew he was in Drakken's office; and Deputy Mayor Jean Stoppable, who was still engaging the robot in conversation in front of the building. Which was currently creating a problem for Kim.

"KIM! We've got to do something before that thing crushes my Mom!" Ron cried out as he tried to pull away from Kim, who had him in a subdual hold that was _supposed_ to render the target immobile, but wasn't quite that effective on her anxious boyfriend.

They were currently in an alley entrance about a hundred yards from their target, Kim having assumed that making too open an approach might lead to a violent response from the robot. Of course, she also realized that if it was being driven by Drakken's personality, it would have first taken the time to declare it's intentions before taking any action, but she wasn't willing to risk that, so she'd approached through the back alleys, parking the Sloth in the rear of the building forming one side of their current place of concealment.

Her intent to recon the situation and come up with a plan to deal with the robot while giving it as little opportunity as possible to cause damage to downtown Middleton had flown right out the window when Ron caught sight of his mother.

"RON! Calm down!" She tried to put as much urgency into as low a voice as possible, because she didn't know the robot's sensor capabilities. If it had very sensitive audio pick-ups, _and_ was programmed to recognize her voice, then things were liable to get quite dicey if it detected her presence. "You have to think! Your Mom is fine... I mean, if Mister Barkin could talk to it for twenty minutes and not get squashed, your Mom should be able to talk rings around it!"

Though normally that would be a rather absurd assertion, it actually made Ron stop trying to pull away from Kim as he actually considered what she'd said. Kim then pressed her advantage. "Ron, if that thing is being run by it's AI like Wade and the Tweebs think, it's programmed to attack us on sight, and then you might really be putting your Mom in danger!"

Those words calmed Ron down immediately. Or at least made him force down his fears enough to think rationally. "But Kim, we have to do _something!"_

"Of course we do, but we have to try and avoid anybody getting hurt when we do it, like always." Kim responded reassuringly. Even as she calmed Ron, she checked on Hego, who was ignoring them as he studied the robot keenly. She was justifiably apprehensive about what the big hero might be thinking.

"There's just one thing to do..." Hego finally spoke up, voice full of confidence, "I'll distract the robot, whether the Tyrant controls it or not, while you remove all the innocent citizens from the area!"

"Wa.." Kim suddenly broke off her almost automatic response. Actually, the plan wasn't bad... depending on just how Hego intended to do the 'distracting'. "Have you ever actually fought something that big before?" She finally asked to buy time and make plans herself.

"Well, Um, no, actually." Hego admitted, "At least not a machine that large..." He trailed off as he became distracted by a memory, then shook it off, stating firmly "Never mind, that case belongs in Team Go's secret files, and has no bearing on this matter!" Then he looked wistful for a moment. "To tell the truth, I was hoping that the rampage of that foul machine would draw out..." He trailed off again, and Kim wondered whether she wanted to ask any questions regarding what he'd just said, or would prefer ignorance, when she spotted Officer Allen of the Middleton PD coming up the alleyway behind them.

Giving the towering hero a wary look, Allen smiled at Kim grimly. "Glad to see you here, Miss Possible." She said sincerely, "But not sure if something that big is in your league, no offense." She added the last upon seeing Ron scowl at the suggestion that Kim couldn't handle a problem of any kind. "The Army has sent a pair of Apache gunships and they're waiting outside town, but they're concerned over the robot's power source, not sure if it's safe to actually blast it or not!" Then she cocked her head with a frown as she heard something. "And we had the airspace around Middleton cleared, even of news choppers, so who could that be?"

Kim could easily hear the sound herself of a helicopter approaching, and to her trained ear, it didn't sound as if the engine on the aircraft was in the best of condition. Then another sound distracted her, the familiar four note signal from her wrist Kimmunicator. She promptly activated it. "What's up, Wade?"

"Kim! Hey, just wanted to let you know that Doctor Director is all right, or at least that she survived the landing of that ship they were flying. In fact, I hear there were no serious injuries!" Even while saying this, Wade was multitasking as usual, typing furiously on one keyboard and shifting his attention from one monitor screen to another.

"That's great, Wade!" Kim responded happily, before becoming serious. "Wade, do you have any idea what kind of power source is in the robot... not that I think the Army should attack it, I'm just... Hey!" The growing noise from the approaching helicopter had suddenly increased dramatically as the aircraft passed directly over them, causing the sound to reverberate off the alley walls.

Kim looked up with a scowl, shielding her eyes from the sun to try and get a good look at the copter. She saw that it was an old UH-1 Huey, but bristling with so many different antennae that she wondered how it could lift the weight. And though she couldn't tell for certain, the camouflage scheme it sported seemed awfully vivid. It also had a logo she couldn't make out due to the sunlight's reflection. Then she heard Hego speak in a way she never had before. Almost in awe.

"Can it be them?" He said almost hopefully, his eyes fixed on the helicopter. Kim was about to ask the obvious question when she realized that Ron, too was gazing raptly at the circling machine.

Keeping her eye on both of them, she raised the Kimmunicator. "Wade, I have a terrible feeling something weird is about to happen..."

"If that helicopter is who I think it is, weird doesn't cover it..." Wade began, before a joyous exclamation burst from Hego's lips.

"It _IS _them!" Kim had never quite seen such a look of what had to be hero worship on the big hero's face.

"It's _who?"_ Kim asked in exasperation. Then she saw Ron giving her an almost sympathetic look.

"The National Anti-Robot Force, Kim!" He stated as if the answer was absolutely obvious. Simultaneously, Kim thought she heard the sound of flesh smacking flesh from the Kimmunicator.

Kim blinked. "N.A.R.F.?" She asked in confusion. "Gesundheit" She thought she heard Wade mutter. A quick glance at the screen showed him with an expression like someone who had drunk sour milk by mistake.

"Actually," Hego addressed Ron in a slightly superior tone, "They changed it to National Anti-Robot Strike Force recently, supposedly after being bombarded with suggestions for a team mascot they felt was totally inappropriate for their image!"

"Do I want to ask?" Kim whispered to Wade. The boy genius grimaced and shook his head.

"Oh! That's right, I forgot about the name change!" Ron smacked his forehead as he said this. "They haven't put out any graphic novels with the new name yet, guess that's why I still think of them under the old name!" Hego smiled benignly and nodded.

Now really confused, Kim backed off a short distance. "Wade, please explain? N.A.R.S.F., graphic novels?"

"If you think that acronym is bad, Kim, when they were first formed, someone actually thought Anti-Robot Strike Elite should be their name!" Wade told her with apparent sincerity.

Kim's brow furrowed as she scowled deeply. "So, are you saying these guys are legitimate?" As she saw Wade chew his lip deciding how to answer, she heard Ron behind her. "I've only seen one complete collection of the action figures, and Senor Senior Junior had it."

"A complete set?" Hego responded in an awed tone, "Even the deluxe H.T. Figure?" He was still watching the helicopter circle overhead. Kim realized that the pilot was having trouble finding any place to land close to the robot.

That thought caused her to remember their main problem so she peered around the corner and saw that the robot was apparently no longer in conversation with Jean Stoppable, who was retreating through the front doors of City Hall, ushered along by the Chief of Police. Whether the machine was now paying attention to the helicopter or not was hard to tell, since it was still facing towards City Hall. Of course with its sensors it didn't have to physically face towards the subject of it's interest... Kim's train of thought was interrupted by Wade clearing his throat, which brought her attention back to the Kimmunicator.

"Kim, these guys _were_ legit once, they were formed by the Government as a Top Secret outfit, but they had their funding pulled during the Clinton Administration. So they kept their group together basically by merchandising themselves, and they actually did pretty well at it for a while." A series of images popped up on the screen, some too quickly for Kim to catch as Wade continued, "Comic books, graphic novels, public appearances... mostly at comic book conventions and gun shows, that sort of thing."

"Oookay, but how many giant robots have they actually fought?" Kim asked with a bit of trepidation. Wade held up his hand with thumb and forefinger forming a 'zero'. "Spankin'..." Kim muttered.

"To tell the truth, Kim, Drakken is probably the only guy in the US who ever actually _built_ a giant robot!" Wade shrugged eloquently, "And every time they had problems in Japan, they politely refused any help from N.A.R.F.."

"I don't think you should consider that information entirely accurate." Hego's voice right behind her made Kim jump, it was hard to believe the big hero could move so quietly. (Especially since he seemed utterly incapable of doing so where sneaking up on villains was involved.) "Many of the Force's operations are classified Ultra-Top Secret, and are still unknown to the general public." He stated with complete conviction.

"Yeah..." Ron added, though without much certainty as he frowned and regarded the still circling aircraft with a thoughtful look. As the writer of some pretty creative fiction himself, he was now apparently having a few doubts about these heroes.

"Okay, so how come I never heard of these guys?" Kim asked. She was also looking at the helicopter for another reason. It's engine was sounding more distressed by the minute, and it was beginning to stream a trail of smoke that was far denser then it's exhaust ever should have produced.

Wade answered her first. "Kim, don't take this the wrong way... but you're a girl, _and_ you have good taste, and these guys' stuff is about as overly macho as you can _get._"

Whether the last was meant to placate her or not, the whole answer was no longer important to her as she realized that N.A.R.F.'s, or N.A.R.S.F.'s, or _whoever's,_ helicopter was about to make a forced landing in the street, and she didn't think... and then to her amazement the aircraft dropped neatly into the next intersection, it's rotor blades just barely clearing the buildings on all four corners. And fortunately, something had possessed the city planners to install rather low traffic lights at the downtown intersections, a source of complaint for some drivers who couldn't see them over SUVs and vans at times, but a blessing in disguise on this occasion.

"Okay..." Kim conceded aloud, and with some relief, "Their pilot is either very good, or incredibly lucky!"

"Well, he was _very _good when they were first formed," Wade informed her, "But I think that _that _was more luck then skill!"

"Nonsense!" Hego said with a dismissive snort.

Then something Wade had said came back to Kim. "Wade, you said their funding was pulled during the _Clinton _administration? When exactly were they first organized?"

"Um...1984." Wade replied, then he frowned, "Which was when someone in the administration, or maybe the President himself, thought that giant robots might actually become a viable threat to National Security."

"Why?" Kim asked, thoroughly puzzled.

Wade shrugged again. "I have no idea!"

"Well obviously someone was remotely controlling them!" Officer Allen's voice drew Kim's attention. She was talking to someone over her police radio, and had raised her voice for some reason. Noticing Kim, she smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Burns was just reporting two cars that appeared to have no drivers in them. They pulled up his roadblock down the street... and then he swears he heard a voice from one say 'Nah, just a poser!' ...then they backed up, turned around and left! I mean... just some kind of prank, right?"

"Riiight." Kim replied without much conviction. Then she turned her attention back to her Kimmunicator just in time to catch Wade looking guilty about something as he turned away from typing on one keyboard. "What's up, _Wade_?" She asked suspiciously. But Wade almost immediately received a reprieve from explaining.

"It's him, it's really _him_!" Hego said slowly, voice reverent. Ron looked almost as awestruck. Kim rolled her eyes even as she and Officer Allen moved to get a clear view of the N.A.R.S.F. Helicopter.

"Whoa..." Allen muttered under her breath. Standing outside the chopper was a man who was the very image of the handsome hero, tall and broad-shouldered with sandy hair with just a touch of gray at the temples. He wore urban camouflage fatigues, and had a... lollipop sticking out of one side of his mouth.

"John Leonidas Jackson!" Hego exclaimed quietly, "The leader of the National Anti-Robot Strike Force!"

Kim frowned, and raised her Kimmunicator so she could speak quietly to Wade, also lowering the volume on the device. "How long ago did you say they formed this group, Wade?"

Wade smirked. "1984, Kim, you heard me right! Rumors are half the money the team makes these days is spent keeping him looking young! And by the way, his birth name was Jethro Lindsey Jacks, he changed it legally some time after the team lost government funding."

Kim noted that the man wore no visible weapons, but that shortcoming was more then made up for by the two men who now climbed from the machine to flank him. Kim looked with growing alarm at the man who took position on the right. He was short, broad, and heavily muscled, with a fringe of gray hair all he had on his head. He looked prone to sunburn, and had quite a substantial 'spare tire' overhanging his belt.

But what alarmed Kim was what he was carrying. Or wearing depending on one's definition. An elaborate harness supported two miniguns, one braced by each arm.

"H.T. 'Human Turret' Grundy!" Ron said excitedly, smacking Hego on the shoulder as he did. And of course immediately grimacing as he shook his numbed hand.

"H.T. ?" Kim whispered to Wade. "And we can't let him fire those things in Middleton, he'd do more damage then Ron or any villain has ever done!" Then she flushed guiltily as she realized what she'd said, even though Ron himself was too distracted to hear her.

"Hiram Theodore." Wade replied. "Those guns are only .223 caliber, otherwise I doubt even he could handle them both, and the chance of them damaging a giant robot? Well, he believes in the theory that if you throw enough small bullets at something, you have to hit something vital!"

"Great!" Kim muttered. "And who's the last guy?" The third individual was the opposite of H.T., being tallest of the three, almost cadaverously thin with long white hair pulled back in a ponytail under a brightly covered bandanna. He had a large missile launcher precariously balanced on his shoulder.

"Mitchell 'MechWreck' Wrightson," Wade replied, "Likes to resolve problems with a single shot whenever possible. Supposedly hates all the merchandising, but apparently not the female attention he gets because of it." Seeing Kim's warily curious look, he grinned wanly. "Yeah, that's probably not a subject you want to inquire too far into."

Kim decided not to question that, instead studying the helicopter and the pilot visible in the cockpit. He seemed to be wearing a floppy _sombrero_ on his head, and possessed a sizable handlebar mustache. "And the pilot?" She asked, while noting that the engines on the machine were winding down, with a few disturbing additional bangs and knocks.

"Hank 'Hedgehopper' Hinkley, who it has been hinted has made a little extra money making night flights across the border."

"A vile and deceitful allegation!" Hego declared, having somehow overheard despite the reduced volume. "Intended to discredit the team! It was thoroughly disproven on their blog just two months ago!" Kim noticed that Ron scowled thoughtfully rather then support Hego's defense of their heroes.

Kim decided to quickly steer the conversation elsewhere. "Okay, but these guys have never actually fought a robot before, so how can we..."

"_Officially, _they haven't." Hego admonished her, "But as I told you, many of their operations are cloaked in the deepest secrecy, less the public become unduly concerned!" Ron nodded hesitantly in support this time.

Kim peeked at the Kimmunicator screen to see Wade again giving her the 'zero' sign. She drew in a deep breath, "Well, even so, this is my town, and I think I should be allowed to handle this!" She actually blushed slightly at her own uncharacteristically pretentious declaration, but kept her expression firm. Unfortunately, the time wasted in declaring her intent gave things just enough time to go south.

Having assured himself that he was the focus of several news cameras, the N.A.R.S.F. Leader pointed dramatically at the robot. "Let's take this Tin Can _DOWN!" _Kim distinctly heard Hego speaking the last few words in sync with Jackson.

"I got this!" The tall and lanky Wrightson declared, and hefted his launcher into firing position. "I've got tone!" He shouted, and squeezed the trigger. He apparently paid no mind to the fact that as soon as he had shifted the launcher, he had begun to lean backward under it's redistributed weight. As a result, the missile launched at such a high angle it had no chance whatsoever to hit the robot, or to Kim's relief any of the surrounding buildings.

"Do you think I should warn Denver that that's coming their way?" Wade quipped, then was thankful that Kim apparently ignored the jibe, so fierce was the glare she was directing at Wrightson. She failed to notice Hego's eyes still following the missile's trajectory, then suddenly widen in alarm

As was the N.A.R.S.F. Leader. "I thought you said you had tone!"

Wrightson scratched his head. "Um, that may have been the low-battery warning from my hearing aide, come to think of it." he admitted sheepishly.

"Oh step aside, you goof!" H.T. snarled as he stepped forward and swung his twin weapons to bear. Kim started forward far too late to interfere before he pressed the dual triggers, and instead cringed back and covered her ears as the two weapons cut loose.

Twin streams of tracers poured into the robot for a few seconds, but ricocheted off it's armor in all directions. Then the left hand gun apparently jammed. H.T., apparently unwilling to simply release the triggers, began to involuntarily traverse to his right. Jackson jumped forwards to try and brace him, but it was too late for the giant inflated Jubal Lobb, which was thoroughly shredded by the stream of bullets.

Then Wrightson bashed the jammed gun with his missile launcher, and it began to fire again. But now the shove Jackson provided from the rear caused H.T. to swing wildly to the left, and City Hall's upper floors now took a beating. (In Drakken's office, Frugal Lucre dove for the floor with a loud "Yow!" as the windows disintegrated in front of him.)

"I've got to stop him!" Kim shouted, but as she attempted to resume her rush, a hand took an unbreakable grip on her arm. She looked up in surprise at Hego, but saw that his attention was directed upwards. She followed his gaze. "Oh... _so _not good!"

All three N.A.R.S.F. Members were now combining their efforts to keep H.T.'s guns on target, though the bullets were plainly having no effect. Wrightson was also devoting one hand to keeping H.T.'s pants from falling to the ground, the vibration from the guns having caused his belt to slip.

Suddenly Ron grabbed an astonished Officer Allen and pulled her abruptly back into the alley as Hego spun around, pulling Kim along so as to shield her with his body, his blue glow springing into being.

There was a sudden, bright green flash, and all three men in the street were flung to the ground as pieces of the twin miniguns flew around them. After a moment to recover, they all sat up with confused looks on their faces.

Despite Hego's shielding body, Kim had caught a glimpse of the all-to-familiar flash and groaned, then peered upwards, more or less knowing what she'd see. In this case, less was more accurate. Shego she expected to see. Dementor flying the hovercraft she occupied, not so much. Bernie bracing Shego as she stood in the cockpit brandishing a plasma wrapped fist... Kim felt like pinching herself to make sure she wasn't sharing one of Ron's dreams.

"Okay, which one of you _idiots_ just tried to shoot us DOWN!" Shego shouted. Kim could see that the woman was hurting from the way she had to pause and recover from her own shout.

To Kim's surprise, John Leonidas Jackson climbed to his feet and faced Shego with an astonishing lack of fear in his expression. His two teammates meanwhile tried to disentangle H.T. from his now useless weapon harness. Kim started forward to give the N.A.R.S.F. Leader a piece of her mind.

Brushing dirt off his clothes, Jackson pulled the lollipop, which appeared to have been bitten through, from his mouth and addressed Shego. "Listen, Lady, we're empowered to deal with any giant mecha running loose in these United States and threatening it's citizens and their property! We can't be held responsible if said citizens don't have the common sense to vacate the area where we're operating! I mean, you can't fight giant robots with spitballs; there's bound to be collateral damage!"

"Collateral..." Shego began angrily. Kim also opened her mouth to make her own opinion known, but neither woman had a chance to speak further, as the main player in the drama suddenly reminded them all of it's presence.

"A Revolt!" The robot's voice boomed out, "A revolt against the benign rule of the Progenitor! His traitorous former underling allied with his arch-rival, and hired mercenaries brought in to overthrow him!" Then it paused, and Kim was suddenly aware that she was now in plain sight of the machine. "Not good..." She muttered under her breath.

"And worse still they seem to be in league with the Progenitor's greatest foe!" The robot declared, "But this revolt is about to end here and now, with the death of all his enemies!" And it began to stride purposefully towards them.

"Um, who's got the best Plan B?" Ron asked loudly, not being particularly choosy who would answer the question.

**Well, this has been long delayed, and changed more then a few times in my head, hopefully it was worth the wait.**

**Please Read and Review.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible or any of the characters from that program or any other characters I may reference from other works.**

**I am sorry this chapter was so long in coming, just couldn't find my muse, pesky things. I want to thank Reader101w, Michael Howard, CajunBear73, and Valerie3 for their reviews of the last chapter. This will either be the last chapter, or the next to the last, promise!**

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"To tell you the truth, Hench, I was in Go City at a horticultural event in which Bates had several competitive entries when your people tracked me down." Montgomery Fiske aka Monkeyfist informed the thoroughly miserable entrepreneur as they made their way through the duct work of Drakken's former lair. "Otherwise let me be perfectly clear in stating I wouldn't have come within miles of this place today!" Then he snorted derisively, "Or any other day for that matter!" He paused at an intersection to check his bearings. "But the promised fee for this extraction was too large for me to turn down."

Hench winced at that, knowing what kind of money that might mean. But it was worth it if he got out of this mess intact. Fiske's abrupt appearance had startled him completely as he had cowered in a new hiding place after his first choice of shelter had been literally blown away by the Villainous Reaper(as opposed to the umpteen other villains who used 'Reaper' in their titles!) with a salvo of misaimed missiles.

Hench had then taken refuge, after a mad dash across the main floor of the lair, under the reinforced table that had once supported Shego's personal coffeemaker, an incongruously large and heavy machine to be solely dedicated to that purpose. Beneath the table he had discovered the one and only weapon of the lamely titled 'Bowlinator', and had promptly shoved the dangerously beeping sphere away. He had no idea where it's owner was, or even if the burly wannabe villain was even still alive amidst the mayhem.

Several nerve-straining minutes later, Fiske had suddenly appeared, peering underneath the table from his perch atop it. "Not a very healthy environment for a clever businessman like you, is it, Hench?" The disgraced English lord had commented smugly. He had apparently not come alone, as Hench witnessed a machine gun armed minion who took aim at Monkeyfist suddenly sprout a small galaxy of throwing stars and collapse. "And it's getting less healthy by the minute," Fiske had dryly observed, "So lets make haste!"

Now working their way through the ventilation system, Hench was caught off guard when Fiske stopped abruptly. "I've always wanted to ask this question, and there's no time like the present, I suppose." Fiske remarked, then turned around in the quite ample space available in the duct and looked at him curiously while spreading his hands to encompass their surroundings, "Just exactly _why _do you make the ventilation ducts large enough for practically anyone human to fit through them?"

A flash of annoyance passed across Hench's face. "We're in the middle of escaping from a minor holocaust in the making, and you're asking questions?" An alarming vibration ran through the duct at that moment, but Fiske merely squatted there with arms crossed regarding Hench. The entrepreneur sighed and shook his head. "Fine, but let's at least get to a junction with multiple ways to flee if disaster strikes, and I'll explain." He suggested, trying to keep any sign of pleading from his tone. After a moment's contemplation, Fiske nodded and led the way further towards safety.

Once at the next junction, with ducts running in every imaginable direction from the one point, Fiske again stopped and regarded him curiously. Hench hesitated briefly, but another shuddering vibration loosened his tongue. "The conflict between good and evil, heroes and villains, can get complicated," He explained, "And I do after all run a business offering services to the villain side..." His face screwed up in a grimace a string of distant explosions echoed through the shafts. "Basically, I have to make certain concessions to stay in business! And one of them, believe it or not, is making it easier for the good guys to have access to any of my lairs!"

"Thus making your clients much more vulnerable." Fiske observed in a tone that hinted at accusation.

"Well..." a crafty look appeared on Hench's face, "My clients can always add security measures to the ducts, of course, even lethal ones, if they so choose, which actually makes it much easier to thin out the hero herd out, albeit by removing all the fools and overconfident types. So, it's not such a 'bad' thing for the bad guys, if you follow my meaning? Now, is your curiosity adequately satisfied?" Even as he asked, he hunched involuntarily as another violent shudder ran through the mountain.

"Yes, quite." Fiske replied sharply, then turned and began to move rapidly through the ducts again, Hench hurrying to keep up. With his chances of survival greatly improved, he had already begun to consider how to turn this disaster to his future advantage.

Eventually they came to a dead end. Fiske gestured towards a grill set into the bottom of the duct. "I believe this egress should suit you! Outside, and quite close to the main entrance, and presumably your transportation home."

Hench nodded in agreement. He didn't think even Kim Possible had ever found this way in. It emerged underneath a rock overhang about forty yards down the road from the main doors. But his satisfied look turned to puzzlement as Fiske squeezed past him and headed back the way they'd come. "Not leaving with me, your Lordship?"

Fiske looked briefly over his shoulder, an evil smirk on his face, then he turned and continued on his way, but called back, "I think there's an opportunity, if I move quickly enough, to settle a few old scores. Good Luck to you, Hench, and make sure my payment in full is where it's supposed to be!"

Hench watched him with a curious frown until Monkeyfist rounded a bend and was lost to view. Then he shrugged, and began to open the grill. It was a fairly tight squeeze, but he easily dropped through to solid ground. He couldn't stand up straight until he'd cleared the overhang, and he did his best to brush the dust from the ducts off his clothes as he moved into the clear, ignoring the sounds of continuing bedlam echoing out of the lair. Then he stood up straight and his heart nearly stopped cold.

The road down the mountain was packed solid, but not with more villains coming to join the mayhem at the lair, but just the opposite. Police from more agencies then Hench could count, Federal officers...and superheros. _Lots _of superheros. No really heavy hitters, at least none he could see, but the major ones probably had much more important things to attend to. Or Hench fervently hoped so.

And then, incongruously, his cellphone buzzed. Taking it out almost without conscious thought, he activated it as his eyes continued to sweep over the assemblage in front of him, all of whom seemed to have made him the sole focus of their attention. "Hench." He practically croaked in a dry voice.

"Mister Hench? Hank Perkins here!" came the annoyingly peppy voice, "I—I have a buyer here willing to make a bid on the lair, but he's only willing to go as high as seven-fifty..."

Hench blinked, mind snapping back into business mode. "Seven-fifty? Take it! It's more then I expected!" He then switched the phone off, cutting off some doubtful remark, as his eyes focused on the familiar form of Betty Director moving to the front of the crowd. She was limping, and had a highly visible bruise on her forehead. And the glare she was directing at him boded ill for his future, to say the least. And then salvation, of a sort, intervened.

He felt a sudden tingle from his left shoulder, but before Hench could turn his head, a familiar voice sounded from right next to his ear. "Promise me and my crew some kind of accommodation if we lose our ship, and I'll get you just what you need, right now!"

Hench didn't hesitate. "Deal!" He muttered. And barely a moment later, the attention of everyone was drawn to a bright burst of light, causing many heroes and others to adopt ready positions, flaring up powers or lining up sights. But then the light faded to reveal an astonished group of well-dressed men and women, startled(to say the least) about their sudden dislocation, but regaining their composure with a rapidity that demonstrated why Hench paid them so well.

Managing to force a confident smile onto his face, the entrepreneur drew himself up, taking hold of his lapels. "Ladies and Gentlemen," He informed all assembled in a booming voice, "My Attorneys!"

Near the back of the crowd of heroes, one moaned loudly at this development. Turning to a rather curvaceous colleague, he muttered in a disgusted tone "Well, this whole show just bogged down, how about we go wreck that giant robot in town? And then afterwards..." he added suggestively.

The heroine rolled her eyes before replying exasperatingly, "That's Middleton over there, home of Kim Possible? If she needs any help, I'm sure we'll hear about it."

A doubtful expression crossed the man's face. "Yeah, but has she ever fought something like that? I mean _really _fought something like that? Do you think she can really handle it?"

The woman smiled grimly. "Better question might be, do you think she _can't_?"

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The robot's first targets were Shego and Dementor. It launched itself with a brief assist from it's jets upwards to take a swing at the hovercraft. But Dementor had developed excellent reflexes over the years, partly due to Kim Possible, but also due to some of his own experiments becoming 'uncooperative'. He pulled his craft upwards sharply, evading the swipe of the robot's arm. He then continued to ascend in case the robot took full flight to pursue him, but it chose not to.

It instead dropped back to the street, briefly firing it's jets to make a gentle landing, still mindful of the need to keep it's occupant asleep, as well as avoid too much damage to what might actually be it's creator's domain. It now turned it's full attention towards the three members of N.A.R.S.F. who still stood outside their helicopter. But not for long.

Acting in complete accord, Jackson, Grundy and Wrightson spun about and leaped aboard the chopper. "Take Off!" Jackson bellowed, only to realize that their pilot had already done so, without the helicopter. Leaving behind the battered _sombrero _and the now obviously fake handlebar mustache.

Exchanging panicked glances, the three men then bailed out the opposite side of the aircraft and began to sprint down the street. Wrightson was clearly pulling ahead, to Kim's mild surprise, and Grundy lagging badly, when Wrightson suddenly pulled up, peering at something in the window of Hammelmann's Handy Hardware Store, one of the oldest businesses on the street. The skinny mercenary then jerked open the door and ran inside, followed in turn by his two colleagues.

"Outstanding!" Hego exclaimed. When he saw Kim give him an incredulous look, he returned a knowing one. "Obviously, they've gone into the store to use the tools and materials available to craft an ingenious improvised weapon with which they will overthrow that mechanical monstrosity!"

Kim restrained herself from rolling her eyes, being more concerned with the robot's actions as she replied. "Or, they saw the sign in the window saying that there's a fallout shelter in the store's basement!" As she said this, she backed farther into the alley. "Better get clear of me, it'll be much safer for you!" She added in a low voice to Officer Allen. Who, sense of duty notwithstanding, saw this as excellent advice, and took it.

Hego was still standing his ground, a look of disapproval at Kim's impugning of his heroes clear on his face, only to have Ron prevent any defense of same. "Too bad the shelter isn't there anymore." He commented, while also matching Kim's retreat.

Hego glanced back at the robot while following the pair, obviously curious in spite of himself. "What happened to it?"

A frightening crash as the frustrated robot punted N.A.R.S.F.'s helicopter high into the sky and his own hastening retreat didn't prevent Ron from replying. "Oh, someone piloted a giant burrowing machine into it last year, thinking it was the vault of the First Bank of Middleton. Which was kind of dumb, the real vault isn't underground at all!" Turning the corner, he added "But did you know it actually has a bathroom in it?"

Following Kim and Ron around the corner, Hego paused again to peer back down the alley. It was hard to tell where the robot was looking, usually, but right now it seemed to be leaning back slightly, and unnecessarily, to peer upwards at Dementor's hovercraft. "Well, that would certainly be convenient if someone were to get locked inside, but how did you know about it?"

Suddenly fidgeting nervously, Ron cast a quick glance at Kim, who was thankfully preoccupied. "Welllll...that's a long story, which we obviously don't have time for, we have a mad robot to wrangle!"

Fairly oblivious to Ron's ill-concealed anxiety, Hego nodded decisively. "There's obviously only one thing to do, I must endeavor to close with the foul machine and overtopple it!"

This caused Ron to quickly glance at Kim for her reaction, only to see a pained grimace on her face. Then she shrugged resignedly "At the moment, I can't think of anything better!" Then her Kimmunicator beeped for her attention.

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"Shego, we really should get you to a hospital!" Bernadette Barr snapped as she hovered over the woman, trying to see if Dementor's evasive maneuvers had worsened her injuries. "And why the hell weren't you strapped in?"

Shego tried to fend her off feebly, impaired by both a great deal of pain and nausea to the point she was having great difficulty keeping her last meal down. "Would you cut it out? We have bigger problems to worry about, what's that damn machine doing?" She tried to struggle into a position to look over the side, but Bernie had no difficulty restraining her.

"It vould seem to be trying to figure out how to follow und stomp on Kim Possible." Dementor replied to her question. "Und _ihre_ _bruder_ as well."

"Oh, right, Hego." Shego replied with to Bernie a worrisome lack of focus, before moaning miserably. "Great! There goes Middleton! Not only do I let someone steal Doc's big robot on my watch, I let it trash the whole town, with my brother as an accomplice!"

"Dramatic, much?" Bernie replied with a touch of asperity as she readjusted Shego's sling and made the best examination she could of the tape job she'd done on her ribs. Then she looked curiously over the side herself. "You know, that _is_ odd, it's not charging after them. They went down a narrow alley, but surely it could smash it's way through?" She paused thoughtfully, but then Shego distracted her again.

"Willi, what about your sonic cannon, won't it work on the thing? Pretty sure Doc made it plasma proof..." she trailed off darkly.

Dementor looked mildly offended as he replied. "_Eine, _it is not a sonic cannon, it is a multi-purpose sonic device...vich happens to have a destructive capability. Und dot brings us to _zwei, _due to recent problems with der Homeland Security, I had to downgrade the device in order to regain my visa, thereby removing said destructive capability! Und lastly _drei,_ if _Herr_ Doctor Drakken made the _verdammt_ machine proof against his minion's primary weapon, then he certainly made it proof against his arch-enemy's...vell, arch-rival's, favorite weapons!"

Shego snorted. "_Which _favorite weapons? Willi, you played around with just about everything imaginable at one time or another! But that thing _has_ to have a weakness!" She made a sour face. "But only Doctor D would know, and I promised not to disturb him on his honeymoon!"

"I think one weakness might be it's AI." Bernie remarked absently. Then realizing she had their attention, she grinned sheepishly. "I think the robot is trying not to damage any property in it's master's domain, that's why it hasn't gone after Kim directly." She then gestured towards a pillar of smoke on the outskirts of town. "Of course, not saying it punted that helicopter into the landfill on purpose..."

"Yeah, well that doesn't solve our problem!" Shego snapped, "If it's thinking like the Doc did in the old days, _out_thinking it is pointless, I never could figure out where he was going to jump next!"

"Vell, on the subject of _Herr _Drakken, _I_ made no promises not to disturb him!" With those words, Dementor flipped two switches on his dashboard, causing a small compartment to spring open, revealing...

"A red phone?" Both women spoke simultaneously, Bernie curious, Shego incredulous.

Dementor nodded. "_Ja_! You see, it vas occasionally a good idea for the two of us to communicate...vell, in a matter of speaking, on neutral ground?" He shrugged. "Anyvay, ve needed an open line available sometimes." He entered a number on the phone, holding the receiver to his ear. "Hello? _Herr _Lerman? Vat are you doing...ah! _Herr _Drakken, so now ve make dis a party line?" The last line was delivered with clear disapproval.

"If you have a speaker for that line, switch it on, Willi!" Shego snapped, then winced slightly.

Dementor looked more then a bit offended. "Of course, der is a speaker function!" He reached behind the phone and apparently flipped a switch, then folded his arms across his chest and sat there with a scowl on his face(but certainly not a pout, of course).

Ignroing his petulance, Shego raised her voice to be heard from the back seat. "Doc, can you hear me?" And showed considerable relief when she heard Drakken's voice.

"I can hear you just fine, Shego, now what's happened there? Who activated my robot? And worse, who turned the A.I. on?" came the aggrieved reply to her question.

Shego grimaced. "I'm afraid it's an old Team Go Foe, Timothy P. Tinsley, otherwise known as the Tin-Plated Tyrant, Doctor D." She admitted sheepishly, "And I'm so sorry I screwed up, and ruined your honeymoon!"

The fact that Shego had apologized didn't alarm Draken much, it had happened before. But the fact she had done so with _witnesses_ certainly did. "Shego, are you all right?"

Bernie spoke before Shego could, drawing a fierce scowl in response, which she ignored. "No she's not, Drew, she's rather badly beat up, and should be at the hospital! But this rather alarming sense of duty has suddenly appeared in her..." That actually caused the battered ex-thief to stick her tongue out, "..and she insists on trying to handle this all herself!"

There was a momentary pause before Drakken responded, concern mixed with exasperation in his voice. "Shego, your health is far more important to me then any responsibility you may feel for what's happening! If Miss Barr...why is she with you and Wilhelm? Nevermind! If Miss Barr thinks you need to go to the hospital, _Go_ to the hospital! I'm sure Kim Possible and Global Justice can handle my creation..." His voice trailed off, and Shego could detect an undercurrent of doubt in his voice. But before she could respond, they all got another shock.

"Well, I hope she can handle it before school lets out..." The voice of Wade Load came over the speaker, "Because her brothers and their cronies have come up with a solution of their own, and I'm not sure Middleton can survive it!"

Dementor spluttered indignation, Shego groaned, and after a momentary jaw-drop, Bernie rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Vat.._VAT_ _are you doing in my private communications!" _Dementor finally bellowed.

"You get used to it, Wilhelm." Drakken's voice came over the speaker, in a tone indicating resignation. "For the moment, we have to hope that the twin terrors cannot obtain transport to our little battlefield before we can come up with a solution!"

"Wade? Are you _serious!" _This time it was Kim's voice they heard from the speaker.

"You mean, did he hack Doctor D and Willi's private comm channel and turn it into a party line..err, _bigger _party line?" Shego answered sarcastically, "Yep, he dood it!" There was a muffled 'eep' from Kim's end as she realized she was connected.

"Not important!" Bernie declared. "Doctor Drakken, does your robot have any particular weaknesses we can exploit?"

Drakken's exasperation was clear in his response. "I've been racking my brain trying to remember, but I've had so long to tinker with it, I think I covered everything...except maybe sonic weapons..." He trailed off doubtfully.

One of Demento'rs eyes began to twitch alarmingly. Shego moaned, and resisted the impulse to facepalm because the way she felt that might just have finished her off.

"Then that leaves only one weakness!" This declaration came from Ron. "The weakness common in any great war machine is always it's pilot!" There was a brief silence before he added(In response to an incredulous look from Kim)"What? I heard it in a movie once! ...or maybe an anime, can't recall."

Dementor clenched his jaw briefly, then nodded. "Dat is correct...however according to _mein _scanners, the human pilot within the robot is sound asleep, though how he has managed to remain so through all dis madness is beyond me!"

Shego's gaze promptly focused on the speaker, anticipating the somewhat sheepish response from Drakken. "Well, for that you can blame me, I suppose. You see, I envisioned myself needing a quick catnap after a hard day of world conquering..." He trailed off in embarrassment.

"So, you programed the robot to fly itself without you being disturbed during your nap." Kim finished for him, making it a statement rather then a question. "What about talking to the AI, Doctor Drakken? Maybe you can reason with it?"

A longer pause preceded Drakken's doleful response. "That would be the psychological equivalent of looking in a funhouse mirror, Kimberly, there are so many ways that can go wrong, I couldn't begin to count them!"

"Well, we have to do something!" Kim growled in frustration.

"Professor..." Everyone in the hovercraft looked at Bernie as she spoke. The nurse was studying the robot below them thoughtfully. "Exactly what else can you do with that 'multi-purpose' sonic device of yours?"

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Hank Perkins and the prospective purchaser of the lair were still sheltered in the 'henchmen's emergency refuge', as Hank now described it in his own mind. And except for occasional drifts of dust that drifted down after a particularly violent disturbance, the place still seemed to be the safest spot within the lair. At least as long as no one discovered the concealed entrance, that is.

So it was quite a shock when they heard someone rapping, then hammering on the door from the other side. Though his companion did try and restrain him, Hank eventually felt compelled to see who was there. Only to be bowled over as soon as he unlatched the door by two people in business suits. One, a young man, saved Hank the trouble of worrying about their safety by slamming the door hard behind them, cutting off the cacophony of mayhem from without.

The second, a young woman who had suffered some rather severe dishevelment while keeping her notebook computer practically dust free somehow, glared at Hank. "I don't suppose you could have delayed any longer, and gotten both of us killed while you worked up your _manly_ courage?" She growled in a voice that made Hank's bowels seriously knot up.

Behind her, her slightly out of breath companion smiled sympathetically at Hank. "We're here to get the bill of sale sorted out before the property depreciates any further!" The woman hissed at Hank, before she turned her attention to the room's other occupant, "And you, I suppose, are the buyer?" The man nodded nervously. "And you are aware of the terms Mister Hench agreed too?" She shifted her attention back to Hank, who swallowed nervously.

Though Hank had wanted to bring up some reservations concerning Jack Hench's understanding of the problem, the look in the woman's eyes drove those thoughts from his head, and he merely nodded. "Great!" She enthused sarcastically, "Then lets get this done and get out of here while we still can!"

The buyer nodded as well, trying not to appear too excited. _"Best seven hundred and fifty bucks I ever spent!" _He thought with satisfaction, _"Provided the check doesn't bounce, that is!"_

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**Okay, next to last chapter I guess, sorry. For now, please read and review...and hopefully enjoy.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible or any of the characters from that program or any other characters I may reference from other works.**

** I am posting what I consider an incomplete chapter for two reasons. First, the great length of time since my last post, for which I apologize. Second, because bizarre behavior by my computer makes me concerned it might crash(again!), resulting in the loss of the file.**

** Thanks for the reviews and the favorites I have received for this story, and apologies to those I didn't thank with a PM.**

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Back in the lair, the mayhem continued with little abatement. Though some of the main players were now absent from the central chamber, more then enough villains and minions had survived to this point to keep things very lively.

Zelda the Doominatrix had had to leave for an appointment to dominate a Middle Eastern dictator, to the collective disgust of her arch-foes from the S.S.S.D.M.O.H.C.V.. The five surviving members of that organization still present then spent a brief time harassing the 'Anagrammer', a villain known for sending his foes clues as...well, anagrams('Much harder then riddles, you know!'), hoping he might actually have a suggestion for a new title for their organization. After being rebuffed by him, however, they decided that things were winding down, and made an unobtrusive exit.

Whether or not Ding Bhat had left or not was a matter of tense concern for the four E-Ninjas presently in hiding throughout the lair. None had laid eyes on their lethal victim for some time, but that was no guarantee that he was not laying low to entice them into revealing themselves.

Doctor H. Youngman DeEvers was still plying his trade remarkably unscathed, though he had begun to talk to himself with alarming frequency. And he had plenty of patients. He was being assisted without his knowledge by the four Ninja Nurses, though circumstances had forced one to make a supply run, and another was busy looking up the various client contracts on her tablet to make sure they didn't exceed anyone's due coverage.

And now into the mayhem entered another figure, dressed in a blue three-piece suit with matching fedora...and a video screen for a face. In point of fact, he was wearing a helmet on which were visible several lenses surrounding the screen. And the best name he had managed to come up with for his villain persona was...VidFace!

In trying to gain employment as a henchman, his spiel was that for every hero there had to be something on the Internet that would distract them, or merely cause them to decide that whatever villain VidFace was assisting was no longer a priority, causing said hero to depart to deal with more important things. And VidFace claimed that his patented search engine would find that 'something' and allow him to display it on his helmet screen. Or, if necessary...

"EVERYONE! Stop shooting and look at this!" He bellowed, before grasping the lapels of his suit jacket and pulling them wide as he squeezed two buttons in the lapels. At which point the suit was shown to be a facade, as vest, shirt and tie all became part of a 36 inch collapsible flatscreen, on which was shown a view of the massed forces of law and order outside the lair. "THIS is what's outside, Right Now!" He turned slowly in place, giving all the villains in the main chamber a look.

In point of fact the absolute ludicrousness of someone yelling for them to stop had already caused most of the villains and minions to cease fire. Or cease strangling, stabbing, etc, etc, etc. Some shots still echoed from the passageways, and one single minded villain continued to search for matches or a light to get his personal flamethrower going again(Who knew so many villains had given up smoking?), but most of those present had their attention riveted on the image of massed police, military, and superheros outside.

For a moment there was tense silence in the chamber, then voices broke out all over. The confusing babble mostly focused on one question: was there a back way out, and preferably a secret one?

"There was a map in the brochures! I'm sure there was an exit shown!" someone yelled. That declaration caused an immediate scramble for said brochures or fragments thereof, the brochure stand having been hit by a lightning bolt, a small grenade, and a homemade 'flying guillotine' hat, with one of it's owner's self-severed hands inside it.

Though some of the first to obtain an intact map tried to slip away quietly, the fact that those less discreet began an undignified stampede down the proper passageway soon just left all the members of the horde seeking said exit. At least, those still capable of moving under their own power. But even some of those who were incapacitated began to vanish, somehow disappearing into the shadows.

Monkeyfist emerged from those very shadows, tsked at the fleeing villains, then agilely scrambled up the wall towards the blocked 'skylight', followed by his dutiful ninja monkeys. Still jammed tightly into that portal, PowerJaw, never the swiftest of individuals, was heard to sarcastically begin, "Well, if it isn't the High and Mighty Lord..." at which point a resounding _crunch _ was heard, and sunlight once again shown through the skylight, accompanied by some complimentary chittering from the ninja monkeys.

Meanwhile VidFace was having some difficulty collapsing his big screen, mostly due to his anxiety to make his own exit. Then the image on it abruptly changed to the frowning face of Wade Load, duplicated on Vidface's helmet screen as well. "Oh, that's really not good..." The young tech genius remarked.

"Dude!" VidFace bellowed, "How dare you violate...um, why is it 'not good', Dude?"

Wade grimaced. "Well, the escape tunnel goes about half a mile, all downhill, before it comes out of the mountain. Problem is, in order to finish it on time, they let it narrow down to four by four feet at the end..."

VidFace looked down the passageway the villains had vanished down. "Oh...yeah, not so good." He looked around the empty chamber, "And...they'll probably blame me, right?"

Wade shrugged. "No idea, 'dude'. Now, I have to call Doctor Director and tell her most of the villains will be doing an impersonation of a giant toothpaste tube on the far side of the mountain!" Then the screen went blank.

Moments later, sounds behind him caused VidFace to whirl around in alarm. Only to see Hank Perkins, the two Henchco lawyers, and the new prospective owner of the lair emerging cautiously from their hiding place. The latter looked around the ravaged lair, nodding thoughtfully and muttering to himself. The two lawyers didn't linger, but hurried up the passage without a word.

Hank looked around the room with an appalled expression. Then his shoulders sagged and his expression became crestfallen. "There goes the Real Estate career..." He muttered mournfully.

At which point his client clapped him hard on the back. "Hey! Don't be so sad, you got a commission on this sale didn't ye?"

Hank nodded. "Yes..I got ten percent, which turns out to be seventy-five dollars, minus any overruns on the budget for this event..." He looked around, doing figures in his head, "Which with all the stuff that was supposed to be returned, probably means I owe Mister Hench a few hundred dollars." He concluded mournfully.

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The robot was in a quandary as it literally paced back and forth in front of City Hall. It could tell exactly where it's creator's greatest foe was hiding from it's wrath, but wasn't sure what it should do about it. Or to be more accurate, what lengths it could go to with the approval of the 'Progenitor'.

[Query: Of what importance are these structures when balanced against the eradication of the Progenitor's greatest foe? Are any of these structures of the Progenitor's own design? They display a variety of aesthetic styles and construction techniques, demonstrating a chaotic and random order. Analysis: consistent with known thought patterns of the Progenitor...Conclusion: destruction of said structures could potentially displease the Progenitor.]

It paused in it's ruminations when it accidentally trod on a compact car in it's distraction. But deciding that such a vehicle could not possibly belong to the great mind that had built it, and minions' vehicles were of no concern, it began to return to the solution of it's dilemma. Or would have if not for a shocking disruption to it's musings.

"HEY TINHEAD! WAKE UP, YOU FRAKKING MORON!" The all too familiar voice of the Progenitor's unfaithful organic servant echoed through the cockpit of the robot. This shocked the machine's logic circuit, it had thought such a thing impossible. It had shut down all external audio pick-ups and sealed all openings through which sound from outside could possibly be heard. It had then filled the cockpit with low volume, soothing music to try and keep it's occupant soundly asleep. Yet now, somehow, these defenses had been bypassed, with potentially disastrous results.

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"Do you think it worked?" Bernadette Barr asked Shego, even as she nervously tried to watch all the indicators on the control panel of Dementor's hovercraft, holding the controls in hands that she was holding as still as possible, even though she felt like her knees were shaking enough to unbalance the aircraft by themselves.

"Well, the theory was perfectly sound." Drakken's voice came over the speaker before Shego could reply. She was peering over the side, microphone in hand as she studied the robot. "So long as Wilhelm made the modifications to his sonic 'device' correctly." Drakken continued.

"I heard That!" Came Dementor's own voice in reply. Bernie flinched and cast a quick glance towards the side of the craft, but she was too nervous to peer over the side. Professor Dementor himself was currently underneath the craft, using a wall-climbing invention of his own design to make modifications to the sonic device. Bernie had a suspicion regarding it's inspiration, with individually magnetized metal plates replacing the 'traditional' suction cups. "You should come here, und try to do this hanging upside down, two thousand feet up!" He was in fact hanging upside down with only the toe and knee plates in contact with the belly of the craft, and doing his level best not to look down.

"That's the only reason I expressed doubt," Drakken spoke in a placating tone, "Being upside down can cause one to see things from the wrong perspective, after all." Drakken was tempted to add a comment relevant to his own experiences in similar situations, but decided to refrain.

"Boy, isn't that the truth!" Ron's fervent comment sounded over the speaker, and on Dementor's earphones, briefly forestalling his own response. But only briefly.

"Vell, I made no mistakes!" He declared, even as he double-checked all of his work hastily, "Der Robot's occupant is most certainly avake!"

"So all that remains is for him to regain control of the robot." Kim interjected, "For better or for worse." She had serious reservations about the change in control being the lesser evil.

"Well, he merely has to turn the AI off, what could be simpler?" Drakken observed.

Shego groaned "Doc, if the villains of Go City had ever been capable of thinking 'simply', Team Go wouldn't have lasted a month! They failed more due to overly elaborate plotting on their part, then anything _we_ ever did!" Then she winced, hoping that Hego was not close enough to Kim to have overheard her on the Kimmunicator.

He wasn't, but as it turned out, that wasn't good news...

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**And that's all for now. I hope to resume some sort of more regular writing soon.**

**Please Read and Review.**


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